


Bonds

by KivaEmber



Series: Bonds Universe [1]
Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Gore, Implied Relationships, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Slow Build, general atlus feeding on your tears affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Daichi+ Route. Kind of AU. Yamato really shouldn’t encourage this kind of behaviour from his subordinate, but he found himself unable to stop. Series of Oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Bond

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is very…hm, I’m not sure how to describe it. The True Restorer Ending has everyone’s memories erased about what happened and blah, but I just have this awesome headcanon that at the end, Hiro ends up joining JP’s later in life because yes. Polaris did say that they could retain the bonds if they have a strong will…
> 
> And let’s face it, the DeSu2 cast have THE WILL OF FIRE. Like hell they’re gonna have laser guided amnesia break up their broships. They won’t have definite memories, but it’ll probably be something to the effect that Yamato creeps on people who look like they have good potential, and he sees Hiro’s profile which is probably blandly inoffensive as most protags are, but he’ll be like THERE IS SOMETHING and whatever. HISTORY HAPPENS.
> 
> So technically this is probably a Post True Ending AU. Thing.
> 
> In the end, this is just me to dump my post Daichi+ ending headcanons for all the characters, although Yamato and Hiro will be the main focus.

“It isn’t proper to drink during working hours.”

 

Hiro had this expression of confused innocence, one that Yamato did not buy for a single second. He stared steadily at the brunet, who maintained his façade of pureness while simultaneously holding up a bottle of some mysterious alcoholic beverage. After a while Yamato realised that Hiro was probably going to stand there until Yamato either gave in, or bodily escorted him out of his office.

 

Yamato eyed the door behind his subordinate, judging the distance.

 

Hiro set the bottle down on Yamato’s desk, and said casually; “It’s past midnight, and you’re the only one who works in those hours.”

 

Yamato scoffed. “ _You_  are supposed to be working, Hiro.”

 

Hiro grinned a bit sheepishly then, tugging at the collar of his JP’s jacket. “Yeah, well…I finished early.”

 

“Then you should get started on tomorrow’s work,” Yamato said dryly, raising his eyebrows at his rather unruly subordinate. He had no idea why he tolerated Hiro’s subtle disobedience or slacking off, but he admitted that the brunet made up for it in pure talent and success in any assignment Yamato gave him – in either information gathering (people, apparently, just loved divulging their secrets to Hiro with little to no persuasion), or battling the supernatural. Despite only being taught in how to use the Demon Summoning App a year ago (given only to those that have proven themselves to be trustworthy and responsible), Hiro displayed an uncanny _knack_  with demons and spirits, and could even coax wild demons onto his side.  

 

Of course that prompted Yamato to give his background a more in depth search, just in case Hiro’s family was part of some cult that dabbled in demons (there were a surprising amount of them squirrelled away in Japan), but no matter how far Yamato searched Hiro’s family tree, his ancestors were so  _bland_  and  _normal_.  

 

Hiro was like a flower growing out of dry, lifeless soil. Who knew such talent could be found somewhere completely mundane?

 

“Now you sound like my old school teacher,” Hiro grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “Do extra credit after you finish your homework, or start on the one needed to handed in for next week, Mister Kageyama…”

 

Yamato just looked at Hiro blankly.

 

“…right, home-schooled,” Hiro coughed into his hand. “Anyway, back onto my original point, it’s midnight, and only you and some poor souls you condemned to night duty are working. I’m sure nobody’s going to come in here and accuse you for taking a well earned break.”

 

Yamato could feel his eyebrows disappearing behind his fringe, but Hiro just gave him a stern look. It was bizarre having someone so completely unaffected by Yamato’s scowls or glowers or cutting words. It was like Hiro was used to such behaviour – no, completely accustomed to it. It was curious…but Yamato put it up to Hiro’s naturally calm and open personality.

 

“Don’t give me that look,” Hiro chastised Yamato. “I don’t think you’ve ever taken a break in your life, ever.”

 

“I don’t have holidays,” Yamato said stonily, his expression closing.

 

“Or a life, for that matter,” Hiro muttered in return. Yamato did give him a glare then, but Hiro just shrugged in response to it, his JP’s jacket almost sliding off of his shoulders. That was another thing too – Hiro persisted in wearing his jacket like it was a blanket draped over his shoulders, or a cape, with his bunny eared hoodie underneath it, and that white and blue striped turtleneck peeking over the collar. There were days where Yamato was tempted to just smack Hiro across the head and tell him to either wear it properly or not wear it at all.

 

But previous experience with Kanno told him that such a thing would be a futile endeavour.

 

“My job as the leader of JP’s does not allow me time to slack off, Kageyama,” Yamato said frostily, “I have many things to attend to, and very little time to attend to them, so wasting a single night on something as ridiculous as _drinking_  is highly inappropriate.”

 

There was a pause. “Besides, I’m underaged.”

 

Hiro let out a suspicious sounding noise. “Isn’t it your twentieth birthday tomorrow – no, actually, it’s past midnight, so today?”

 

Yamato stiffened. “…how do you know that?” His birthday and age was not something that was openly divulged to just any JP’s member. Granted, Hiro had flown up the ranks with startling speed, but not to the rank where he could prod about Yamato’s personal details without him knowing about it.

 

Hiro suddenly looked guilty, and he squirmed as Yamato attempted to incinerate him with a glare. “…I…got it from Otome.”

 

Yamato scrutinised Hiro for a few seconds longer before letting it slide with a bad tempered grunt. Hiro was honest, and Yamato found out all of Hiro’s tells with pitiful ease when the man  _tried_  to lie. Otome…why wasn’t he surprised? Hiro was on very good terms with several of Yamato’s subordinates, mostly those with high ranks as well, such as Makoto, Otome and Fumi.

 

Then again, Hiro was on very good terms with nearly everyone.

 

“Anyway, you’re old enough to drink, and it is your birthday. One celebratory drink? Just one?”

 

“If I have  _one_  drink, will you leave me to do my work in peace?”

 

Hiro grinned, obviously sensing victory. “Of course.”

 

The glasses that Hiro had set down earlier were separated, and the bottle of mystery alcohol (honestly Yamato had no idea what it was) was poured deftly into the cups. Yamato gave Hiro a flat look, and the brunet had the decency to blush as he set the bottle back down.

 

“A few of my friends like to drink when we get together.”

 

“I hope you don’t say anything private during these drinking parties,” Yamato said with clear disapproval. He was satisfied when Hiro shook his head hurriedly.

 

“No, no, never. They think I work as an errand boy for a very grouchy man,” Hiro said, looking innocent.

 

“What things you must say about your tyrannical employer when your tongue’s loosened,” Yamato drawled, rolling his eyes and taking one of the glasses. The liquid was clear, and Yamato sniffed it suspiciously. Ugh, it smelt like paint stripper.

 

“All nice things, I promise,” Hiro said, but his tone was mischievous, and Yamato didn’t trust him for a second. He just grunted, shooting his subordinate a little glare, before looking back down at the glass with a grimace.

 

“Alright, so…” Hiro pulled up a chair to sit down across from Yamato, and reached out over the desk, holding his glass up expectantly. “To Yamato’s twentieth birthday!”

 

Yamato sighed and tapped his own glass against Hiro’s with great reluctance. “To irritating subordinates.”

 

“Ow, mean.”

 

“Shut it, you are irritating,” Yamato smirked, pulling his hand back. He glanced back down at his drink, took a deep breath, and in one movement downed the entire foul glass in one gulp.

 

He slammed the glass down on the desk, trying not to tear up from the burn going down his throat, and saw Hiro gaping at him with a look of profound respect.

 

“…wow. Uh, you alright there?”

 

“Fine,” Yamato muttered, his voice a bit wheezy. The burn travelled down his throat to settle in his stomach warmly. It was…a strangely pleasant feeling, even if the taste in his mouth was beyond disgusting. He grimaced.

 

Hiro laughed before knocking his own drink back. He too grimaced once he was finished, setting his empty glass down with a quiet “yuck”. “I should’ve gotten a sweeter drink.”

 

“Yes, you should’ve,” Yamato rolled his eyes, picking up his pen and trying to return to his work. “Is that all now to this ridiculous birthday ritual?”

 

“Of course not, there’s more to come,” Hiro said, and it sounded quite ominous to Yamato’s ears. “Like getting us coffee to get this horrible taste out.”

 

Yamato perked at that. “That is the first intelligent thing you’ve said since walking into my office.”

 

“ _Ow_ , you’re really grumpy today,” Hiro complained, rising from his seat. “Maybe I’ll just get myself a coffee and leave you out.”

 

“If you do that, Hiro, I will personally drown you in a vat of coffee myself.”

 

“That’s kind of James Bond level of super-villainy, don’t you think?”

 

Yamato glared up at Hiro, looking irritated.

 

“Okay, I’m leaving. Two cups of coffee, coming up. I really am an errand boy to a grouchy employer.”

 

“You say these things out loud as if I care,” Yamato drawled, his tone faintly wondering, “while you’re being coffee boy, find Makoto and tell her to call Osako over Incident 4B3. There’s a discrepancy in one of the reports.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

Yamato threw a paperweight at Hiro, but his subordinate escaped before it could connect, his laughter echoing down the hallway. Yamato sat there grumpily for a few minutes, tapping his fingers on the desk before a small smile curled his lips.

 

Hiro Kageyama…he was beyond aggravating and enjoyed sticking his nose into where it shouldn’t belong. He was never cowed by Yamato’s glares or threats, and was one of the few people who had the audacity to tease or joke with him.

 

It was strange. Yamato felt that he should curb that behaviour, should establish firm boundaries between leader and subordinate, in case Hiro got it into his head that they were  _friends_. They had to maintain a professional relationship, after all. Yamato told himself that, but he never could muster up the motivation to carry out disciplinary action.

 

He doubted Hiro would learn his lesson anyway.

 

This was dangerous, this level of attachment, but…

 

Yamato’s gaze lingered on the open bottle, sitting innocuously on his desk with two empty glasses beside it. The warmth in his belly remained, and he doubted it was from the alcohol he had consumed. It would be fine, wouldn’t it? A leader wasn’t supposed to be attached, but Hiro was…different.

 

There was something about Hiro that made Yamato yearn for him, and he knew that Hiro held that same yearning, with how he persisted in his attempts to get under Yamato’s skin, to stick close no matter how many cruel words or cold indifference Yamato flung his way. After a while, Yamato simply stopped trying, and now…now Yamato couldn’t imagine a day where he didn’t have Hiro sticking his head into his office, asking if he needed a coffee, or if he wanted to go on break, or maybe they should try out that new place, it sells Takoyaki come on I know you want to go.   

 

Yamato pressed a gloved had against his face and sighed. These emotions were confusing to him, and worrying, and there were days where he wasn’t sure what they were telling him. There was  _something_  about Hiro, something that told him to never let him go, not at all, otherwise he would slip through his fingers again-

 

Again?

 

Yamato frowned, finding himself following a vague thread, a thought that drifted just beyond his grasp – his concentration was broken when Hiro returned, banging the door open with his hip while carrying two mugs of steaming coffee.

 

“Here we go, I had to fist fight a few people to get to the coffee machine, just so you know. It’s like the Hunger Games down there.”

 

Yamato withdrew from his thoughts reluctantly, quirking an eyebrow at Hiro. “Hunger Games?”

 

“It’s a book, or a television series…pop culture,” Hiro finally settled on, placing Yamato’s cup of coffee down on the desk. “What’s up? You had your brooding face on.”

 

Yamato stared up at Hiro, scrutinising him closely enough that the brunet started to look a little uncomfortable. He took in Hiro’s puzzled tilt to his eyebrows, his thin, small mouth, and his brilliant blue eyes and tried to understand why…

 

“…nothing,” Yamato finally said, dropping his gaze to the paperwork lying before him. He honestly couldn’t get the motivation to continue it, not with his thoughts in such twisted turmoil. He sipped his coffee, taking comfort from the bitter taste on his tongue before he glanced at Hiro again.

 

His subordinate had sat down, although this time he was looking a bit concerned. Yamato smiled.

 

“So what else did you have planned for me?”

 

Hiro immediately brightened, “Well, there was this shop that opened up Ikebukuro. I know you don’t like going out that much, but I was thinking we could go get some dinner, you know, celebrate your twentieth birthday a bit more traditionally-”

 

Yamato sipped his coffee, patiently listening to Hiro’s excited babble. Perhaps this was foolish of him, to encourage a bond like this with his subordinate, but Yamato could not simply turn away. It wasn’t like Hiro affected his competence any – the occasional missed bit of paperwork, and he always caught up quickly enough before anyone noticed.

 

He smiled down at his cup of coffee. “…Very well.”

 

“-and they make the best cakes- huh?” Hiro blinked, looking a bit blindsighted. “O…Okay? Wait, you want to go?”

 

“Why not? I know you will just pester me until I agree anyway. I may as well save myself from hours of torture.”

 

Hiro gave Yamato a look then, one that made him feel a bit self-conscious. Hiro’s stares always made him feel like the brunet was looking at his very core, where nothing could hide. After a pause Hiro grinned, bobbing his head, the heavy silence swiftly vanishing. “That’s right. You’re starting to learn, Yamato.”

 

“Mm…”

 

Hiro’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “So how about we finish this bottle…?”

 

“Don’t push it.”

 

Friends…it would be a first for Yamato, but he found himself strangely looking forward to possessing this weakness.

 

It wasn’t like anyone had to  _know_  anyway.


	2. Second Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Daichi+ AU. Failure was hard to swallow, even for Hiro.

The air here was frozen, and Hiro drew his scarf tighter around him, burying his nose into the soft, cotton fabric. Aokigahara was eerily quiet, a soft blanket snow covering everything in a silent muffle. Hiro thought the ‘Sea of Trees’ was a fitting title for the forest. He had never felt so alone than he had then, walking in a frozen forest with snowflakes drifting lazily from the canopy ahead.

 

The low hanging branches occasionally had brightly coloured markers on them, which never failed to startle Hiro. The bright pink or orange colours were out of place in the otherwise pale and lifeless forest, but the further he moved into Aokigahara, the sparser the markers became. The forest became increasingly dimmer the deeper Hiro went, the weak sunlight barely lighting his way, and he couldn’t help but flinch every time his foot snapped a twig hidden beneath the snow.

 

After what felt like an age, he reached his destination. It was a very tiny clearing with a squat, ugly looking rock in the centre. Hiro hurried towards it, one gloved hand slipping into his coat pocket to retrieve his mobile phone.

 

Somehow, it was even quieter in the clearing, which Hiro had thought impossible, but he tried not to let it bother him as he scrutinised the rock before him.

 

“Did you find it?”

 

“Jesus-!” Hiro jumped what felt like a foot in the air, almost tripping over himself as he spun around. Yamato stood at the edge of the clearing, an amused expression on his face. For once he wasn’t wearing his obscenely long and intimidating JP’s trench coat, but was in fact wearing a very thick, winter’s coat with a furred hood – marked with the JP’s logo of course. It looked quite cute, really, but Hiro quite liked his pay check, and he didn’t want it cut by an insulted Yamato (it happened more than once, and no matter how Hiro pointed out that it was highly unprofessional, Yamato would just stare at him and say that it was also unprofessional to insult one’s superior so there).

 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Yamato said, his tone entirely unapologetic.

 

“Right,” Hiro said shakily, pressing his hand against his chest. His heart was still going a mile a minute, but was rapidly calming as he stood there. He frowned at Yamato. “When did you get there?”

 

“I wasn’t that far behind you, despite your attempts to race off into Aokigahara by yourself,” Yamato sounded faintly disapproving, and Hiro coloured a bit in mild embarrassment.

 

“…Aokigahara gives me the creeps. I just wanted it over and done with,” Hiro mumbled, kicking at the snow covered ground sheepishly. He turned back to the snow covered stone and waved a gloved hand at it. “This is it, right?”

 

Yamato drew close, his boots crunching against the snow loudly. Hiro moved aside when the younger man neared, and watched him carefully as Yamato scrutinised the rock.

 

“…this is it. It doesn’t appear to be damaged, but an investigation wouldn’t hurt. Examine the nearby area while I deal with the seal.”

 

Hiro went obediently. He left the clearing, but remained close enough so that he could watch Yamato past the treeline. The leader of JP’s was strong enough to fight off any trouble by himself, but Hiro was here as backup, so he should remain alert.

 

Apparently a demon was running loose in Aokigahara, and the last group of JP’s members they sent had returned with several of them heavily injured – one almost died. Yamato had decided to come himself to deal with the problem, and Hiro had volunteered to assist him. It wasn’t that he doubted Yamato’s strength – the man was the strongest of Demon Tamers and the only person to wield the Dragon Stream – it was just that Hiro would feel better if the man had someone to watch his back.

 

That and despite his strength…Yamato was about as durable as a wet paper bag.

 

It was a well-known secret, and one that nobody would dare say aloud in Yamato’s presence, but it was true. The man couldn’t survive a hit from an Arioch even if he tried.

 

Hiro shook his head, pushing aside his thoughts to focus on his current task. He paused when he saw a tree with snapped off branches, and drew a little closer. A trail of battered trees led away from the clearing, looking like something large had crashed through the forest blindly. Hiro looked over his shoulder to see Yamato now examining a short, golden pillar that had taken place of the rock from earlier, and decided to investigate it on his own.

 

He carefully picked his way through the broken branches and tricky tree roots, holding his open mobile phone in one hand. The forest was silent to the point that Hiro’s ears were ringing from it, the only noise being his boots crunching against snow and his slow, wary breathing. He stopped when the trail abruptly ended at the mouth of one of the many ice caverns that resided within Aokigahara.

 

Hiro hesitated. A few of the ice caverns were open to tourists, but many of them were dangerous or lost within the Sea of Trees – with over thirty five kilometres of dense forest, it was hard to map out every single cave within it. Hiro scrutinised the entrance, but didn’t see anything that indicated it being a tourist trap. No doubt it was one untouched by humans.

 

Well, what should he do? His investigation brought him here, but Hiro was uncertain if he should return to Yamato and bring him with, or proceed with the investigation by himself. After a bit of dithering, he eventually sent Yamato a text of his whereabouts and summoned one of his demons – just to be cautious.

 

Fenrir, not his strongest demon, but one of his most loyal, appeared at his side in a burst of crackling energy. The demon growled, its glowing eyes seeking an enemy before staring at Hiro questioningly.

 

“We’re hunting,” Hiro told Fenrir, settling his hand atop of the demon’s head. Its fur was soft, even through the fabric of the gloves Hiro could tell that. Fenrir growled, a low, rumbling noise in the back of its throat, and Hiro grinned, patting it once before moving forwards, his demon at his heels.

 

The ice cavern was even colder than outside, which was unsurprising, and Hiro held onto Fenrir’s fur gently yet firmly as they made their cautious way over the slippery surface. Fenrir’s claws clicked loudly enough for the noise to echo in the cave, and Hiro grimaced at the eerie lighting. The light was reflected by the ice from outside, but it made everything bathed in a dim, blue glow. It looked…supernatural.  Hiro could feel the hum of energy in the air.

 

Fenrir growled, the noise bubbling up into a curt snarl, and Hiro gently hushed his demon, trying to secure himself a firmer footing on the ice. They weren’t far from the entrance, but the cave went  _down_ , and Hiro could sense something in the dark depths beyond the eerie light. Hiro nibbled his bottom lip, hesitating, but Fenrir was straining against his hand, its glowing eyes seeing something that Hiro could not.

 

Then it happened.

 

A deafening howl screamed from the very depths of the cave, the wash of rancid, frozen air sweeping over Hiro and Fenrir. Hiro recoiled, and yelped when the sudden jerk made his foot slip on the ice. He hit the ground hard enough to force the air out of him, the back of his head cracking against the ice, and when the world stopped swirling and spinning, he realised with a horrible lurch that he was sliding down towards the darkness, towards whatever made that noise.

 

Hiro shouted, trying to stop his quickening descent by scrambling at the ice, but his gloves offered him no purchase, and his boots couldn’t get a solid grip with how quickly he was sliding. He felt too woozy to try and do it well anyway, just flailing in a panicked manner until-

 

Until Fenrir’s jaws closed tight around his wrist, jerking him to an abrupt halt. Hiro felt his shoulder strain from the rough handling, and tears sprang to his eyes from the pain. Fenrir had not been gentle, but he couldn’t fault the demon - at least he stopped Hiro before he went too deeply into the cave. Sight blurred and head still spinning, Hiro used his free hand to grab onto Fenrir’s fur, apologising dazedly when the demon growled around his wrist.

 

He managed to pull himself up to his knees, his hands curled into Fenrir’s thick fur, with a slow, pounding throb assaulting the back of his head. He could feel something sticky and warm trailing down the back of his neck, but Hiro didn’t dare touch it.

 

The mouth of the cave was just a little dim light high above them now, and with a jolt, Hiro saw a smear of red trailing down the ice towards them. His stomach rolled, but Hiro didn’t know if it was from the sight of blood, or the headache assaulting him. He shoved it aside, taking a deep, shuddering breath, and fumbled with his phone. It’d been a miracle that he didn’t drop it.

 

Hiro could hear something shifting not far from them, and he stilled suddenly. All Hiro could hear was blood rushing in his ears and his harsh, short breathing, his unfocused eyes staring at the bright screen of his phone. His thumb hovered over a button, one press away from summoning another of his demons. The shifting stopped, and a tense pause grew, stretching and pulling taut until Hiro’s fingers were clenching Fenrir’s fur so tightly he feared he was going to tear a clump out of his demon.

 

Hiro pressed the button.

 

All Hell broke loose almost immediately. Just as the demon he summoned – Cerberus – leapt into this world, an explosion slammed against the ceiling just above Hiro, making his entire world shudder violently. Hiro flung himself to the side blindly, Fenrir following, just in time to avoid being crushed by a large chunk of ice.

 

Hiro forced down the urge to throw up and stood up, using Fenrir as leverage. The demon seemed resigned to be used as its Tamer’s support, and stood protectively before Hiro, fangs bared and ears flattened, its glowing eyes fixed on something in the darkness. Hiro panted as he fumbled with the buttons, the wooziness making it hard to even see straight.

 

A pained howl drew his attention, and he watched in horror as Cerberus was flung from the shadows to smash into the icy floor, its hind leg almost ripped completely from its body. Hiro immediately returned Cerberus, the demon vanishing in a burst of energy, and promptly climbed onto Fenrir’s back. Before he was even fully on, the demon was already scrambling up the icy hill, towards the dim light of the cave’s opening.

 

A screech followed Hiro and Fenrir all the way to the mouth of the cave, and just as they leapt through the opening, another explosion smashed into the ground just behind them, flinging them forwards from the shockwave.

 

Hiro hit the snow rolling, but he quickly got back to his feet, stumbling a little from light headedness. Fenrir was at his side immediately, looking a little worse for wear but still in fighting condition. The entrance to the cave was gone – the blast had caused the rocks and ice to collapse, blocking off the cave underneath a thick pile of debris.

 

Would be enough to keep the demon in there? Hiro wasn’t sure. Some of the caves were connected, and he would hate for the demon to end up in one of the caves populated by tourists. Whatever it was, it was powerful, and Hiro hadn’t even seen it. He would ask Cerberus later, once his head didn’t feel like it was going to float off to the stratosphere.

 

Right. Concussion.

 

Hiro decided that he had deserved a break, so he slowly sank down to sit on the ground, uncaring of the snow seeping through the seat of his trousers. Fenrir sat beside him, the demon’s ears pricked forwards with alertness, and Hiro leaned against him, his eyes struggling to remain open as he tapped through the options on his phone.

 

“Hiro? Hiro!”

 

With a blink, Hiro suddenly found himself on the ground, his phone almost half smothered underneath a thin dusting of snow before him, and Fenrir gone.

 

“Uh?” Hiro mumbled thickly. What the hell?

 

He felt hands gently grasp him by the shoulders, easing him upwards. The world spun in a dizzying swirl of colours, and Hiro was pretty sure that he was going to throw up everything ever in the next ten seconds.

 

“Don’t you dare vomit on me,” the voice commanded, one hand keeping him upright, and the other gently prodding the back of his head. He winced when the cold fingers pressed against the throbbing pain at the back of his head, making everything flash red briefly, and Hiro squeezed his eyes shut to clear the blurriness clinging to his vision.

 

“…Yamato…?”

 

“Yes,” Yamato murmured, his voice sounding unusually tight. There was a pause before the noise of a demon summoned filled the soft silence. “Use Diarahan.”

Hiro felt a wash of warm energy flow over him, chasing away the pounding headache and the dizzying spin. He blinked slowly a few times, feeling a bit bewildered at how easily the forest came into focus, and looked over to where Yamato was staring at him grimly. The younger man’s fingers were slick with blood, and Hiro lifted a hand to feel the back of his head.

 

His hair was matted with blood, still warm, but the skin was unmarked, the wound already closed. Hiro grimaced and tried to wipe off the blood that had dribbled down the back of his neck. “Ugh, this is embarrassing.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Yamato’s tone was frosty, and Hiro cringed slightly. The younger man sounded disappointed – and he probably was.

 

“…my investigation brought me to that cave, there,” Hiro began awkwardly, motioning to the rubble that was once the cave. “Then, I, er…slipped.”

 

“Slipped.”

 

“On the ice. I whacked my head really hard. Then we got jumped by the demon that attacked the others,” Hiro grimaced. “I didn’t even get a chance to see it, but it almost destroyed Cerberus.”

 

Yamato’s cold expression thawed a little to be replaced by thoughtfulness. “Did it now…”

 

“It cast Megidola,” Hiro added, “quite a powerful one.”

 

“Yes, I heard it.”

 

They fell silent, Hiro feeling lower than dirt at that moment. He normally didn’t fail so utterly like now. Slipping and getting almost killed by a demon without even seeing it was something that a rookie would do – not that there was anything wrong in that, Hiro knew that everyone had their off days, but Yamato looked at him with such disgusted disappointment that he felt like he should crawl under a rock and die from shame.

 

“I assume the demon is still in the cave,” Yamato said suddenly, breaking Hiro out of his thoughts.

 

“Yeah. I don’t know if this cave is linked to any of the others – it went down pretty deep.”

 

“Hmm…I will call for all of the caves in Aokigahara to be off limits to the tourists for now,” Yamato said, “and station JP’s close by in case it decides to resurface. Is your Cerberus still alive?”

 

“Yeah, want me to summon him?”

 

“Not right now,” Yamato shook his head, rising to his feet. “You will submit a report on the events in the cave, using Cerberus’s observations as a testimony to the demon’s identity. Right now the demon will be classed Rank A, and to be approached with caution.”

 

“We’re leaving?” Hiro asked, and almost flinched when Yamato gave him a cold stare.

 

“ _You_  are leaving. I had hoped that it would only take the both of us to eliminate it, but I am doubtful of your ability to succeed in this mission. As such, you will return to headquarters, and I will call for more capable Demon Tamers to fight the threat.”

 

Hiro felt his stomach drop at those words, but didn’t cringe away. He swallowed, managing not to look away from Yamato’s furious glare. He had severely disappointed the younger man, and Hiro was a little disappointed in himself for his failure, but cringing and shying away from it won’t make it any better. He accepted his reprimand with a glum nod.

 

Yamato’s gaze softened a little, and in a curt movement, held out his hand. “Come, Hiro. We must return quickly.”

 

Hiro took the hand with a weak smile, and allowed Yamato to haul him to his feet. They began walking away from the cave, the silence of the forest broken by Yamato tapping at his phone. Possibly typing their current co-ordinates to find the closed off cave again.

 

“…you will not be joining this mission again if we cannot find the demon today,” Yamato said after a pause. “A Diarahan is not a complete cure for a severe concussion, so you will go to the infirmary when we return.”

 

Hiro bit back the immediate protest, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “…okay.” When one was sent to the infirmary, it was usually for something that healing spells couldn’t fully heal, and they were placed under mandatory forty eight hours probation – unless of course there was an emergency situation where all hands were needed, no matter how injured, but that didn’t apply now.

 

Yamato gave him a sidelong look. “Perhaps you can take that time to reflect on why exactly you failed.”

 

Hiro nodded again, stuffing his hands into his pockets and trying not to hunch in on himself. Yamato was harsh, but Hiro knew he wasn’t being unnecessarily cruel. He had high expectations for Hiro, and whenever he failed to meet those expectations…he was always viewed with scorn and disappointment until he proved himself again in something else.

 

The walk out of Aokigahara was tense and awkward, and when they met up with the JP’s groups outside the forest, Yamato dismissed him without even looking at him. Hiro tried not to feel too dejected as he was led to one of the JP’s trucks, but he couldn’t help it.

 

Ah, well…Yamato’s temper would hopefully cool off when he beat that demon into dust. He was normally in a better mood when he did that.

 

**XXX**

 

Hiro had his own office. It was sort of small in comparison to Yamato’s, but it was cosy and Hiro had personalised it with photos on his desk, as well as other things to help him procrastinate – like a magnet with metal stars and moon shapes to build things with (it was the coolest), as well as a stash of sweets in the top drawer.

 

He also had a computer, a landline, and a pile of paperwork. After his trip to the infirmary, where he was checked over and Cerberus healed, Hiro returned to his office not to get a head start on his work, but to maybe surf the internet until he stopped feeling sad.

 

But first, an important phone call.

 

Hiro leaned back against his desk as he ignored his landline and used his mobile instead to call Chief Hotsuin. He didn’t think he used his landline phone  _once_ , and most people contacted him through his mobile. So why did he even have a landline?

 

He was interrupted from his absent thoughts by Yamato’s voice. “Chief Hotsuin.”

 

“Yamato, I’ve submitted the report,” Hiro said, carefully trying to gauge Yamato’s mood. It was hard to over the phone, and the Chief’s voice sounded strangely staticy. Must be a weak signal.

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yeah, Cerberus says that it was a snake-demon. It was huge, red, with wings.”

 

There was a long pause. “I see,” Yamato finally said. There was another long pause, filled only by static of a weak signal.

 

Hiro fidgeted. He wondered if Yamato was expecting more of his report, but shamefully didn’t know anything more than that. “Cerberus also says that it was pretty resistance to physical attacks,” he added warily, “but not much, he thinks…”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

The question was so out of the blue that Hiro didn’t answer for a few moments out of sheer surprise. “Wha- uh, yeah. Doctor said I was fine.”

 

“Good,” Yamato murmured. Hiro stared bemusedly at his mobile for a moment, a bit confused. But before he could question Yamato, the Chief was speaking again, “we have determined the demon’s location now, and with your information, I’m guessing it to be Samael.”

 

“Samael?”

 

“The seal it broke out of was old, and the identity of the demon wasn’t explicitly stated. However the information we did have claimed it to be “The Poison of God”. He is often depicted as a serpent.”

 

“Poison of God? That doesn’t sound very good.”

 

“It is a very powerful demon,” Yamato agreed, “if it isn’t Samael, then that is good fortune, however it is best to approach it assuming the worse.”

 

“Right…so do you know what Samael’s weaknesses are?”

 

“According to information given, it resists Ice spells, and physical attacks, and is completely immune to spells of Curse and Lightning, with no weaknesses listed. However this information is dated so we will experiment.”

 

“I can try and find out if there’s anything about Samael floating about JP’s,” Hiro offered, feeling a need to redeem himself. “To see if he has a weakness.”

 

“That would be appreciated. Report in with your findings in the hour. After that we will be underground and unable to communicate via phone.”

 

Hiro grinned a little. It was impossible for someone to go through the entirety of JP’s database and books in under an hour, but Hiro would sure as hell try, and would, find the necessary information in that hour, and Yamato knew it too.

 

“Got it. Talk to you later.”

 

Yamato merely hung up.

 

Hiro jumped to his feet, his mood greatly buoyed. He had to succeed in this task given to him now, otherwise Yamato would be angry at him for the entirety of the week, and there was nothing worse than having a vindictive Chief forcing you to pull triple shifts for seven days straight.

 

Hiro shuddered at the thought, and quickly exited his office. Better get that information within half an hour, just to make sure.


	3. Third Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even protags get burned out every once in a while.

It was four in the morning when Hiro returned to JP’s, feeling like he had flung himself into a wood chipper and gotten stuck in the cogs for a good few hours. Demons were most active in the late evening and very early mornings, and Hiro had to adjust his sleeping schedule to accommodate that – but lord, he hated chasing demons when it was so dark that the only source of light was the stars above.

 

It had been a nasty assignment. It was amazing to think that hardly anyone except JP’s and a few choice politicians knew about demons. With how many times Hiro went out every night, he would’ve thought that everybody would know by now – or maybe it was because JP’s went out every night, every hour, to ensure the safety of Japan, that it was blissfully ignorant of the threat under the surface. Hiro didn’t know if it was good or bad.

 

God, it was so tiring though.

 

Hiro had his own apartment away from JP’s headquarters, since he had a life outside of his job, but nights like these, he normally dragged himself to some unoccupied dormitory room and slept on an unmade bed until the sun was at its zenith with Makoto poking at him to go home.

 

Hiro could hear those dormitories calling to him, but he ignored the Siren call for now to haul himself away to Yamato’s office. Yamato was always in his office, morning, noon or night. If Hiro didn’t know any better he would’ve thought he lived in there. He still doubted the man even slept though. Maybe he was a robot, built by the Hotsuin family.

 

He shook his head, trying to stop his thoughts was spiralling into exhausted randomness. Maybe he should shower, before going to Yamato’s office. His uniform jacket was done up for once, but it smelt of sulphur, and Hiro was certain he had grime and soot on his face – well he certainly had it on his hands – and there was a throbbing ache at the base of his spine that blossomed upwards into a throbbing headache. Nothing a Diarama would heal, but…

 

His feet took him to Yamato’s office, and he went inside without knocking. Grey eyes flashed up in a glare, but softened when they landed on Hiro. Yamato shifted in his chair, straightening up with his hands clasped together on the desk, his gaze turning inquisitive.

 

Hiro just stood there, hand still gripping the door handle, and returned the stare feeling like tar was seeping into the cracks of his brain. Why did he come here again? The reason slipped him by. The mission wasn’t one that required immediate reporting to Yamato, after all, and nothing had happened that required an emergency report. So why was his first thought to come to him?

 

“…is there something you need?” Yamato broke the silence first, and Hiro found it difficult to focus.

 

“…no,” he said after a too long pause, and Yamato scrutinised him like he was something interesting in a jar. Hiro closed the door behind him and slowly moved to the chair before Yamato’s desk, every step feeling heavier than the last.

 

Yamato didn’t say anything when Hiro sat down, and Hiro didn’t say anything either. He stared at the pile of paperwork to Yamato’s right, trying to read the upside down letters. It was in English for some reason – Hiro was fine with English, but right now it was like he was trying to translate ancient Greek. ‘The…Japan Meteorological-’

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Hiro tore his eyes away from the paperwork to Yamato. The younger man didn’t look concerned, although he frowning at him like he was being troublesome.

 

He blinked owlishly.

 

“Oh. Yeah, fine. Just, a long night.”

 

“I see…”

 

“Yeah. We got rid of the, uh, thing- demons. Fire based, like you said,” Hiro said, unable to stop his mouth from blurting out the chopped, unsteady words.

 

“That’s obvious. You wouldn’t be here looking like you tumbled out of a chimney, otherwise.”

 

“Mn.”

 

Yamato’s stare felt like it was an X-ray, and Hiro fought not to fidget. “…did you hit your head?”

 

“Don’t think so.”

 

“You don’t think so. It’s a yes or no question. Which is it?”  

 

“No,” Hiro said a bit more firmly. “No I didn’t. I’m just- exhausted.”

 

Silence fell on them, and there was a creak as Yamato leaned back in his seat. Hiro caught Yamato’s eye, and the Chief was giving him this long, unreadable stare. Hiro wished he just listened to his tiredness and went straight to bed. Yamato did not suffer complaints or fools, and Hiro liked to think he didn’t complain, and wasn’t foolish. The Chief was the most unsympathetic boss in existence, and Hiro knew that he probably fell a few notches in Yamato’s fickle respect-o-metre coming to him now, half in shambles from something as mundane as mental exhaustion.

 

“Take the rest of the week off.”

 

The words were so unbelievable that for a moment, Hiro thought he hallucinated them. “…what?”

 

“Take the rest of the week off,” Yamato repeated calmly. “Right now you would just be a danger to yourself and your subordinates if sent off on another assignment. As such you are not to engage in combative missions for the rest of the week.”

 

Hiro was thoroughly bemused. Yamato…never gave days off, unless the person was so badly wounded that he had no choice. “I- sure, okay?” he said, unsure on how he should react.

 

“You will still come in at your normal times, though,” Yamato added. “There is still some paperwork you haven’t caught up with yet.”

 

Hiro grimaced. Paperwork…he’d rather punch a Purple Mirror for an hour. “Right…”

 

Yamato quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve made a miraculous recovery in the past two seconds and think you can take combative missions again after all…”

 

“Hah, no, no…I’ll take the paperwork,” Hiro chuckled weakly. “Like you said, I’d probably be a danger to myself and my comrades if I sort of…fly in half there.”

 

Yamato let out an agreeable noise in the back of his throat, and Hiro watched him with some confusion. The Chief was rather accepting of his…failure – no, not a failure, not even Hiro believed that. People got tired, people got burned out – it was just that Yamato appeared immune to that burn out, never caught sleeping, never caught stumbling, a perpetual machine of pure success, that it was surprising that Yamato understood it.

 

Hiro could understand that awe that people held for him, though. People viewed him as some sort of mortal-God, never tiring and never failing.

 

“You should shower,” Yamato said suddenly, breaking Hiro out of his thoughts. “You smell.”

 

“Sorry,” Hiro said sheepishly, rising from his seat. “I’ll, uh, submit my report after it.”

 

“Bring it in tomorrow. You’re not fit to write a coherent report right now,” Yamato glanced up at Hiro from beneath his eyelashes, the corners of his lips curled upwards in a tiny smirk. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of the Kobold Report.”

 

Hiro flushed. “That- I was still- you’re never going to let it go, are you?”

 

“I have it framed in the recreational lounge, for the lower ranks to know what a bad report is.”

 

“You didn’t!” Hiro gasped, but he laughed, feeling some of the weight that had been dragging down on his shoulders lift. “Oh God you did.”

 

“You can go and check if you don’t believe me. I was merciful enough to blank out your name, but your handwriting is very distinctive.”

 

Hiro groaned. “Damn it, Yamato. Why do you do these things?”

 

“I enjoy watching you suffer,” Yamato said, his tone and expression so serious that for a second Hiro almost believed it. Then Yamato smirked and made a little flicking motion with his hand. “Go shower. Your stench is beginning to give me a headache.”

 

“Maybe I should stay, since I enjoy watching you suffer too,” Hiro grumbled, but he moved towards the door. His head felt a little less cluttered, and a little less tired. “I’m taking that report down!”

 

“I have copies. I will replace it as many times as I have to.”

 

Hiro said something not very nice before he left, but he was smiling, and he had the rare moment of hearing Yamato’s genuinely amused laughter. The door slamming behind him cut it off, and he made his way to the dormitories, a new spring to his step.

 

Although he did stop at the recreational lounge, just to see if Yamato was pulling his leg about the report thing. He wasn’t. He really did frame the damned thing – and enlarged it so people had no choice but to read it.

 

Fucking bastard.


	4. Fourth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro was dangerous. He was dangerous and it frightened Yamato.

Smoke was thick in the air, and the heat was enough to be extremely uncomfortable. Yamato could hear the crunching of trees collapsing from the flames, the very ground shuddering as shouts echoed around them. He could feel, smell, and hear the chaos, yet he couldn’t see it. Damp gauze pressed down on his itching eyes, but he didn’t remove the bandages, standing tensely with Hiro at his side, hovering like some overprotective mother hen.

 

“It looks massive,” Hiro’s voice murmured, almost inaudible from the commotion sounding around them. “How’re the eyes?”

 

“Healing, hopefully,” Yamato murmured, reaching up this time to touch the bandages with his bare fingertips. He had been lucky not to lose his eyesight, truthfully, if even a Diarahan couldn’t fully heal the damage. Magic was miraculous; however, it was also flawed. Bones still had to be set before healing, in case the magic fixed the bone wrong, and things of a more delicate nature, like spinal or brain or eye injuries, required a skilled healer’s touch – and someone who knew the anatomy of what exactly they were healing.

 

Any average Demon Tamer could throw a Dia and fix bruises or internal bleeding, but it took a doctor to heal things of a more complicated nature good as new.

 

Demons were of another nature, but even then it was something given only to those most suited for the healing arts. Yamato would trust a demonic healer over a human one anyway, since their success rate of complicated healing was leagues higher than humans.

 

Hiro’s light touch on his arm drew him out of his musing. “Hopefully? I suppose that is right, though, isn’t it…”

 

Yamato turned his head in Hiro’s direction, feeling frustrated at seeing nothing but blackness. “It will be  _fine_. My sight will return in a few days.”

 

Hiro hummed quietly, although Yamato couldn’t judge what type of hum it was without the facial expression to go with it – and another rush of irritation went through him at that. Hiro was one of the few who he could read, since his face was often foolishly open and honest, but Yamato did not know how to pick out emotions through tone alone, and Hiro was good at adopting a light, airy tone and covering up anything that bothered him.

 

Hiro could disguise his voice but not his face, and right now Yamato floundering on how to step around him. It was why he disliked having phone calls with him.

 

There was a noise then that made Yamato snap his head to the side sharply, the sound of a thousand cinderblocks roaring down a mountain engulfing everything else before the ground shuddered again. Hiro’s hand was tight around his arm, helping him remain steady, and a thick wash of heat and sulphur almost made Yamato choke.

 

Hiro let out a wheezing noise, his voice muffled as if something was pressing against his mouth. “This is insane…we’ll have to move back I think.”

 

“We can’t,” Yamato muttered, gritting his teeth in frustration. “If we move further down-”

 

“Right,” Hiro muttered. His hand was tight around Yamato’s arm still, but he still asked; “I think I see Makoto – want to-?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Hiro guided him in the right direction, and Yamato tried to walk as confidently as he could – but it was difficult. The ground was trembling, and with the amount of debris, upturned trees, and roots jutting out of the earth, it was a miracle that Yamato could walk without stumbling over everything. Hiro’s hand was a constant pressure on his arm, the only link to stability Yamato had at that moment.

 

It was terrifying.

 

“Makoto!” Hiro shouted, and a keening noise cut through the chaos then, enough that it almost deafened Yamato. “-uck!” Hiro’s voice tuned back in. “Ow, that hurt.”

 

“Hiro! Chief!” Makoto’s voice. Yamato turned his head in her direction, and he could hear the strain in her voice as the sulphur in the air grew thicker. “We’re struggling – reports of a media helicopter have come in too.”

 

Yamato almost snarled. They did not need live coverage of this right now. “I thought I told them to cut this area off from the public?”

 

“We have but,” Makoto trailed off. The media, aside from demons, were Yamato’s greatest adversary. Although JP’s was known to the public, demons were still carefully nudged under the radar of common knowledge. With how media had evolved in instant social networking, cameras, photographs, and the internet…it was a constant race to see who would win: the media and their nosiness, or JP’s cover ups.

 

“I want that helicopter gone. I don’t care how it is done, so long as it’s gone,” Yamato snapped. “Hiro, how close is it now?”

 

“That’s…I’m not sure how to tell you this,” Hiro said, sounding partly horrified and partly amused. “It’s split.”

 

“… _what?_ ”

 

“The demon. Its split in two- three, no wait, four? Uh,” Hiro stuttered to a halt.

 

“Please tell me you are joking right now,” Yamato groaned, feeling a headache beginning to form behind his throbbing eyes. “Tell me in coherent detail  _what is happening_.”

 

“Sir!” Makoto’s voice again. “It seems that the demon has consumed enough flammable material to reproduce. The main body is still active, but it seems portion of it are splitting away to form others-”

 

Why did this sound familiar? It was the first time Yamato had come across a demon with an ability like that, but something niggled at him that something…like this happened before, somehow…

 

“-should water really be feeding it?” Hiro’s voice filtered in.

 

“If the flames are hot enough the water will be converted to steam and the oxygen within will feed the flames,” Yamato answered absently, still chasing after that vague thread. A demon that split and regenerates continuously…well they had to separate the demon from its fuel, but in the middle of a forest on a mountain that was downright impossible. If it was just an island, they could allow the demon to eat what remained on it and eventually burn itself out, but not here, not in the mainland. It would devour the entirety of Japan in a continuous hunger.

 

Well, the Dragon Stream’s barrier could possibly protect the cities, but Yamato was not willing to gamble on that – besides, they weren’t prepared to have a lockdown. If the demon survived for a long while the cities would eventually starve and order would break down fast enough to make it all for naught.

 

“Well it looks like Bufudyne is working well on the smaller ones,” Hiro spoke up suddenly. “It’s just the big one – we just have to smother the flames, right?”

 

The Dragon Stream…Yamato felt like he had been struck by a thunderbolt. Why didn’t he think of it before? They were very far from where the Dragon Stream was strongest, high up in the mountains as they were, but possibly- they weren’t that far from Tokyo. It could possibly reach-

 

“Yamato?”

 

“Hm?” Yamato drew himself out of his thoughts. “I believe I have an idea.”

 

“Well, good, because I think we’re all going to die in the next hour or so.”

 

Yamato ignored him. “I need Lugh. Sako, collect him from his seal.”

 

“Sir? Who’ll channel him?”

 

Yamato paused. Channelling Lugh was a dangerous task, and could possibly kill those who were of too weak a body and mind to withstand it.

 

“I’ll do it,” Hiro’s voice spoke up, filled with determination. “You need him to summon the Dragon Stream, right?”

 

“Where do you learn this information?” Yamato asked irritably. “No, you can’t-”

 

“Why? I have high enough spiritual power to channel him, and I like to think I’d be strong enough to too. I’ll do it.”

 

Yamato couldn’t see Hiro, but he looked at his direction anyway, his lips pressed into a thin line. He could practically feel Hiro’s gaze boring into him, and could easily imagine the older man’s face set into an expression of grim determination, as unmoveable and stubborn as Mount Fuji itself. Yamato felt his guts twist into painful knots. In this type of desperate situation, where there was no time to pick and choose a suitable candidate for Lugh’s medium, Hiro was a good choice. He was strong, spiritually and physically, with a will as strong as tempered iron.

 

Those who channelled Lugh, however, never ended their lives cleanly.

 

Yamato understood sacrifice though. He understood it intimately, and although a part of him wanted to submit to his selfishness, to deny Hiro and pick someone else to be the sacrificial lamb, he quietly locked that part away and nodded stiffly. “…very well. We will have to return to JP’s headquarters, the Diet Building, while the demon is kept here.”

 

Hiro’s hand tightened around his arm in reply, almost bruising, but it didn’t let go. Yamato felt like a rock had settled in his stomach, pulling him down towards the earth as he forced himself to go numb. Though past mediums of Lugh hardly survived, it was easy to see Hiro as the exception. He was too…extraordinary to die of such a thing.

 

He would be the exception, Yamato thought savagely.

 

He would be.

 

**XXX**

 

In that heart stopping moment, Hiro hadn’t been the exception, and Yamato didn’t needed eyes to know that his face would be as pale and lifeless as a corpse’s.

 

In that heart stopping moment, Yamato didn’t understand sacrifices. He didn’t understand it, wouldn’t understand it, and refused to believe that the one full of exception could fail him in this.

 

In that heart stopping moment, Yamato knew Hiro was a dangerous exception after all, except in something else entirely, and something ate him up from the inside, devouring and consuming him like the beast on the mountain had somehow gotten inside of him and was killing him too.

 

In that heart stopping moment…

 

**XXX**

 

There was an ache that Yamato could not describe permeating his entire being, and his current position probably wasn’t helping. He was cramped; his back flat against the wall and his body was leaning on his arm underneath him, to the point where he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. He couldn’t move though, wouldn’t move, and instead flexed his fingers until they tingled with pins and needles.

 

There was a hitch in breathing, and Yamato heard a soft exhale, felt it ruffle his fringe in one slow movement.

 

“…Yamato?”

 

Hiro’s voice was hoarse; sounding like it was a million miles away. If Yamato didn’t have such a strong grip on the other man’s arm, he would’ve thought he was that far.

 

“Mm…?”

 

There was a pause. “…right, we did it, didn’t we?”

 

Yes, they did.

 

“Ah, how’re your eyes?”

 

Burning and painful, like he had glass stuck in them, but Yamato kept them shut, the bandages long discarded. He felt Hiro’s fingers gently touch his cheek, the thumb brushing just under eye, his eyelids twitching at the slight touch to his pale eyelashes. “Fine,” he said shortly, letting out a disgruntled huff.

 

Hiro laughed tiredly, but left his hand on Yamato’s cheek. “…this is so scandalous. What would you do if Makoto walked in?”

 

“Tell her to leave. I’m tired.”

 

Hiro sighed, like Yamato missed something, but his headache was pounding a slow beat against the inside of his skull – he didn’t care if he missed something right now. He opened his eyes a sliver, but all he could see was grey and black splotches, like he was watching everything through a distorted, tinted window.

 

The hand fell away from his cheek, resting on his bicep in a startlingly strong grip. “…I’m never doing that again.”

 

Yamato hummed his agreement.

 

“No, seriously. I don’t care if the world’s going to explode, I am never channelling Lugh again.”

 

“You survived…against all odds…”

 

Hiro was quiet, but thankfully didn’t comment on Yamato’s strangely weak voice. “How’re you? I don’t know how the ritual is on your end.”

 

“…it was fine. As it always is. I have been channelling the Dragon Stream for most of my life – it would hardly harm me as Lugh does to you.”

 

The tension seemed to drain out of Hiro then, his fingers relaxing their grip around his arm. “That was cutting it close.”

 

Yamato assumed Hiro was talking about the demon. “Mm, indeed. The forest is completely decimated; however, the media only know it as that, an unfortunate forest fire.”

 

“How on earth- that thing wasn’t exactly subtle. It was like, the size of Godzilla.”

 

Yamato didn’t know what a Godzilla was, but assumed it was large. “Well, from a bird’s eye view, the smoke obscured the camera’s vision. They weren’t sure what they were looking at, and none of the footage would give evidence of the existence of demons, at least, not anymore.”

 

Hiro huffed with laughter. “Where do you get the time to sabotage news outlets between dragon summonings and falling into bed with me?”

 

“I’m Yamato Hotsuin.” That explained everything, really.

 

“Yeah, you are,” Hiro’s tone was amused, and once again, Yamato felt like he missed something. He brushed it off, and flexed his fingers around Hiro’s arm, feeling the warmth seeping in through the soot covered jacket. The JP’s uniform felt a bit charred down Hiro’s sleeve, feeling the fibres crumble into ash between the pads of his fingers.

 

Silence fell between them, comfortable and sluggish, and Yamato hummed quietly when he felt Hiro’s fingers pull at his hair.

 

“You need to shower,” Hiro said pointedly. “Your hair’s almost black.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“And your face is covered in soot.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“You look like you’ve rolled in a coal mine.”

 

“ _Hmm_ …”

 

“And I’m pretty dirty looking too, ah, great, we’ve ruined the sheets too.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“Yeah,” Yamato could practically feel Hiro’s grin, the mattress shifting as Hiro leaned back down on the bed. “I’ll shut up.”

 

Yamato could feel his breathing beginning to deepen and even out when Hiro spoke again. “I’m probably seeing something rare, aren’t I?”

 

“What?” Yamato muttered tiredly.

 

“You’re always working when I see you,” Hiro said slowly, “I’ve never even caught you on break, or sleeping, or even burned out. I always have to force you out of your little work nest.”

 

Yamato remained quiet, his stomach knotting.

 

“But here you are, absolutely filthy and exhausted and not even caring,” Hiro hesitated over his words, and Yamato felt something quiver inside of him; whether out of fear or anticipation or something else, he didn’t know. The breath he held almost hurt his pained lungs. Thankfully Hiro was merciful, and he only said, “Wow it’s almost midnight already?”

 

The tension in Yamato’s gut slackened, and he turned his head to press his face into the pillow. He didn’t have to see to know that he left a black smear from the soot on the fabric. “Being as I am, paperwork will be delayed until sight is restored,” he murmured, voice muffled.

 

“A little break for you, huh? That’s good,” Hiro groaned. “I need a break too. It feels like Lugh played my bones like the Xylophone while he was in me.”

 

“You will be assisting Sako with the paperwork while I recover.”

 

“Yeah-  _what_?” The bed shuddered violently as Hiro sat up. “You can’t-! Ugh…” Yamato felt Hiro lie back down again, a small whining huff escaping him. “Well, I guess I don’t need my skeleton to do paperwork.”

 

Silence fell between them, and Yamato could feel Hiro’s fingers in his hair, carefully trying to brush out the worst of the soot and ash.

 

“So…why aren’t we in your room? Unless my suspicions were right and you sleep at your desk with your eyes open.”

 

Yamato kicked Hiro then. He was still wearing his boots, and he knew it hurt by how the fingers flexed painfully in his hair, the other man’s back bowing to press up against him.

 

“ _Ow_ , shit, Yamato, easy…”

 

Yamato remained silent, hiding a smile into the pillow. Hiro did not speak again though, and although his hand stilled, his fingers remained loose and soothing in his sooty hair.

 

Hiro was the exception. Yamato didn’t think he could show such an open, raw side of himself to anyone else like this. He didn’t even consciously decide it. They had both been exhausted and drained, and Yamato had only intended to make sure Hiro made it to one of the spare dormitory room once he passed Otome’s health inspection. But somehow they ended up inside and on the bed; all tangled up and clinging to each other like the other would fade away like steam.

 

Yamato had been blind, but he remembered, after it all, when Lugh left Hiro’s body, how frozen and limp his hand had been, and how Yamato felt like his heart had frozen with it. It was an emotion he didn’t understand, and even now it rested somewhere in the pit of his stomach, his mind circling it warily, unsure how to deal with it.

 

It made him weak, really, that feeling – and Yamato resolved to bury it deep in his guts so it could never come up again.

 

It wouldn’t, he would make sure of it but…

 

“You should sleep, Yamato,” Hiro’s voice told him gently, and those fingers pulled at his hair and for a moment, Yamato knew that Hiro had known – had known what had happened and what Yamato  _did_ …

 

He said nothing, did nothing, and after a while Hiro’s breathing was loud but slow, his body slack and warm. Yamato waited until he was sure before he pressed a hand against his stomach, through the fabric of his uniform, and clenched. He wanted to tear it out, that feeling.

 

It was eating him alive.


	5. Fifth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato remembers.

When Yamato was young, there was only one person who treated him like he was a person, and not a Hotsuin. His name was A——, and Yamato only remembered him as a tall red and black figure with hair like a silver halo, gleaming bright as a star. Those memories were foggy and distant, like they happened a century ago, but Yamato never really paid much attention to them.

 

He felt disconnected from them, in a weird way. He didn’t clearly remember them, but neither could he muster the suspicion or motivation to see why that was. There were parts of his childhood that were sharply in focus, easily recalled, but with the black and red man with the silvery hair, all those memories were faded, like something had reached in there and tried to tear them out, but left bits and pieces behind.

 

It was suspicious, but it happened so long ago, and the memories so faded and distorted, that he never really looked at them.

 

Until-

 

It started with Hiro, really. Everything confusing in his life always starts with Hiro, he found. Flashes of Déjà vu, thoughts that sprung from the backs of his mind stemming from experiences he never experienced, half formed, foggy memories of something faint like a far off dream…and sometimes when he looked at Hiro he could see the same look of wonder in his blue eyed gaze, of  _what was that_  and  _why do I think these things_.

 

It branched from Hiro to the friends he made, to the friends Yamato checked up on just in case. For some of them he never had to look at their names. He would see their faces, and know  _ah, that is Yuzuru Akie_  before his eyes even fell on the information. He would feel emotions stirring inside of him, of disgust or irritation or mild respect – even though he had never met these people in his life, and knew nothing of their accomplishments.

 

It wasn’t logical, those feelings. Hiro was the cause of it, but he wasn’t the end of it, and as the days and weeks and months went by, of those disorientating moments of familiarity, or knowing  _this happened before_ , Yamato’s thoughts returned to those distant memories of his youth, of the red and black tall man with the silvery hair.

 

The uncertainly of his memories aggravated him now, and he could see clearly that something had happened – and what terrified him was that something had happened to his  _memories_. What could do such a thing, without him knowing? Who was that man – the name was constantly darting out of sight, and if he closed his eyes and focused he could almost see it. A-

 

But it went away before he could say it, and the memories would dip into the gloom of time, and Yamato would move on, suddenly disinterested no matter how much his rational mind screamed at him to  _look_.

 

It never worked.

 

Until-

 

One day Yamato went to his office to start his day as per the norm. It was ordinary and nothing spoke of anything being out of the ordinary. His office had been locked, and not tampered with, and yet, he walked in, he walked in and-

 

Before him stood the red and blacked striped man, with curly, white hair and sleepy eyes, and Yamato stood there frozen, his every muscle seized because _Alcor_  he said, thought, no said, and it felt like someone had grabbed his brain and flipped everything upside down, because  _those_  memories were back in focus, so startling in their clarity, that he had a sudden urge to sit down.

 

“Yamato Hotsuin,” Alcor said, and his lips curved into a sad, guilty smile, so familiar it made him nauseous.

 

And then Yamato  _remembered_.

 

**XXX**

 

Hiro had a bad feeling resting in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why, but it was there, and it only grew when he went to Yamato’s office to find it empty.

 

For the first time he could remember, Yamato  _wasn’t_  in his office. Off hours or during working hours, Yamato could always be found here, unless he was explicitly stated to be on a mission. At the very least, if he wasn’t in there, the office door was locked, since there were some very sensitive documents in his office. Instead, the door was wide open (very unusual), the office empty (extremely unusual), and a pile of paperwork on the floor, sprawled out in a great mess like it had been thrown down there ( _incredibly_  unusual).

 

Hiro picked up the paperwork first, trying not to look at them as he set them on Yamato’s desk and straightened them out. He wasn’t sure if he had them in its proper order, but it was better than being on the floor. He looked about the office, trying to gather clues, but found nothing that seemed suspicious.

 

Still, the bad feeling persisted, and after a long moment of consideration, Hiro went to Yamato hunting.

 

Surprisingly, he found him in one of the spare dormitory rooms, well, Hiro said spare but it was really ‘his’. It was the one he always took whenever he crashed that most people just declared it his. Hiro didn’t know what compelled him to look here first, but he did, and he found Yamato lying on the bed, one arm over his eyes and the other dangling off the edge.

 

Hiro hovered uncertainly by the doorway, feeling like he was intruding, weirdly, and said quietly, “Yamato?”

 

Yamato didn’t really say anything, didn’t even twitch, so Hiro thought he was asleep. He hesitated and started to step out, but then Yamato spoke, “Do you know what Polaris is?”

 

Hiro froze, staring at Yamato. The Chief was still in the same spot, lying down, arm over his eyes, and frowned in thought. Polaris nudged at his memory, something important, but it evaded him when he chased after it. But, he remembered it being… “Isn’t…it a star?”

 

There was a heavy pause, and Yamato finally sighed. “Yes, it is.”

 

Hiro moved over to the bed, gingerly sitting down on the very edge. Yamato moved his arm, his grey eyes looking up at Hiro with a look of profound weariness. Hiro felt mildly alarmed at that look, and he tentatively reached out, his fingers touching Yamato’s shoulder.

 

“…is something the matter?” he finally asked.

 

Yamato seemed to mull it over. “No,” he said after a pause. “Do you know what déjà vu is, Hiro?”

 

“Uh…it’s the sensation when you feel familiar with an event, even though you’ve never experienced it before, right?”

 

“Close enough,” Yamato pushed himself up, his eyes intent as they stared at Hiro. They were like molten silver, and just as searing too. “Do you ever feel like that?”

 

“Déjà vu?” Hiro asked warily. “Well, sometimes…”

 

“On what?”

 

Hiro watched Yamato guardedly. The Chief’s eyes were strangely bright, too bright, and he was leaning forwards slightly, as if his very being relied on Hiro’s answer. He wasn’t sure where this fanatic focus was coming from, but it was scaring Hiro slightly.

 

“Many things…” he said slowly, “like, people, maybe, but that’s because some look the same, you know? In events, but, that’s normal for everyone…”

 

Yamato let out a scornful noise, throwing himself back against the bed in one violent movement. He glared up at the ceiling for a long moment before pushing himself back up again. He looked…erratic, to Hiro, like Yamato himself wasn’t sure which direction his thoughts were going. It was something Hiro had never seen before from someone so composed and logical.

 

“Memories, are not definite things, are they?” Yamato said suddenly, and he watched Hiro closely, his gaze closed off. “They fade and distort depending on time and perceptions, and in the end you can’t even trust them, not even if they’re your memories, and enough time has happened between them.”

 

Hiro had no idea where this was going, but he humoured Yamato while hiding his concern. Maybe he was witnessing the beginnings of a mental breakdown? Hiro didn’t think he was well-equipped to deal with a frantic, half-sane Yamato, but he didn’t want to aggravate his condition either.

 

“Well, memories are already coloured by perceptions, aren’t they?” Hiro said slowly. “Especially old memories, since you’re so detached from them.”

 

“What is a man but the sum of his memories?” Yamato murmured quietly, and he lifted his hands up and pressed them against his face like he wanted to claw something out of his head.

 

“In the end, the memories are no longer relevant,” Yamato said, his voice muffled by his hands. “Especially if they exist outside of the moment…”

 

“Memories are always relevant. They make up who we are – like you said, what is a man but the sum of his memories? All of our experiences make us who we are, I think,” Hiro said, watching Yamato with concern. He finally reached out, pulling Yamato’s hands away from his face, lowering them down to his lap and held them tightly.

 

Yamato watched him, his gaze dark and defensive, hidden beneath a pale curtain of eyelashes.

 

Hiro continued. “Even if…the memories don’t seem like they fit with how we thought things were, they still exist, and they still have an effect on you. Even if they’re coloured with bias and time and…other stuff, you still believed- no, you know you went through those things, so they should still count.”

 

Yamato clutched back at his hands and he leaned in. Hiro stayed still as grey eyes stared at him intently, and he heard a quiet murmur; “I met Alcor today.”

 

Hiro squeezed Yamato’s hands tightly, and it was a miracle that they didn’t break each other’s fingers with how viciously they were holding each other. He let out a slow breath, but he didn’t break eye contact for a moment. “It’s surprising, isn’t it?” was all he said.

 

Something seemed to slacken in Yamato then, and he pulled away, detaching his hands from Hiro’s to fold them tightly on his lap. “Yes. Yes it- was.”

 

Hiro sat there, his thoughts drifting. “…you knew him, long before, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Yamato said softly.

 

“I remember him, faintly, like I remembered you.”

 

“I remembered you,” Yamato repeated, and he looked at Hiro, his lips pressed together in a thin, bloodless line. “Not quite – but I, thought I…”

 

“Yeah,” Hiro said, and he smiled tiredly.

 

They were silent, and the quiet weighed heavily on them.

 

“…I left some work undone,” Yamato said, and he slid off the bed. Gone was the wild, raw look in grey eyes, and instead he looked like the composed leader he always was. He stared down at Hiro. “As have you.”

 

Hiro laughed weakly. “Oh, right. Yeah, sorry. We should go.”

 

“Yes,” Yamato said, his tone very soft.

 

They left the room together, and that was the end of that.


	6. Sixth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moonlight ride on a turtle demon. Shenanigans happen.

Hiro traced the grooves of the Tarrasque’s shell with his fingertips, the slick, hard surface pressing uncomfortably against his back. The sky above was almost pitch black, with only the stars peeking out every so often past the gathering clouds. The moon was visible though, as a murky, vague shape hovering somewhere to the North.

 

It was quiet, but not in a bad way. Hiro could hear the disturbance of the water, the sound of waves, and the sporadic cry of gulls. He quite liked the sea, he decided. This was the first time he was ever on the sea – boat or demon – and he found that he could lie on this hard, unrelenting shell for hours, smelling salt and listening and feeling the movement of the waves.

 

A foot nudged his side then, and Hiro reluctantly opened his eyes to see a dark figure loom over him. Yamato’s eyes were a glowing silver, like they had stolen the weak rays of the moonlight for themselves. It was very pretty, Hiro noted absently.

 

“The purpose of this trip is to visit an offshore seal,” Yamato drawled, his tone faintly amused. “Not to have a nap.”

 

“Well, we can’t do much until we reach the seal, now can we?” Hiro pointed out, stretching lazily with a little grin on his face. Yamato frowned down at him before turning away abruptly, staring off into the dark horizon.

 

“Are you really that bugged about it?” Hiro sighed, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Alright, I guess we can…”

 

Hm, what work related thing can they do on the back of a giant demonic turtle?

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Yamato murmured, his voice strangely placid. “As you said, there is not much to do until we reach the seal.”

 

Hiro gave Yamato a suspicious side look then. Oh yes, something was up.

 

“You know, I wonder why we took Tarrasque? Isn’t there some super secret JP’s boat, or submarine we could’ve taken?”

 

Yamato snorted. “Submarine? Don’t be ridiculous. The seal is somewhere very hard to get to by boat, well, hard to get to discreetly. It would take too much effort to arrange a secret trip when it would be easier and  _cheaper_  to merely go there like this.”

 

“Oh, I see,” Hiro smirked, lying back down again with an air of amusement, “Your miserly instincts kicked in.”

 

“I am not miserly. Just because I manage my finance in an intelligent manner-”

 

“Maybe we should call you Chief Scrooge,” Hiro interrupted, smothering a laugh when Yamato’s irritation almost became a physical aura. “It is weird that you’re so uptight about finances when you’ve got enough money to make your own personal Tokyo, though.”

 

“Just because I have money in excess doesn’t mean I should spend it unwisely,” Yamato said stonily, and Hiro dropped the subject. He found that there were some topics of conversation that made Yamato close up faster than a steel trap, and pushing it would make him snap at you like one too.

 

A stiff silence passed between them, and Hiro broke it with a sigh. “This is kind of nice, I mean. I’ve never been out to sea before.”

 

Yamato was silent.

 

Hiro pushed himself up again, shifting his weight as he crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “I bet you have. You’ve probably travelled all over the world or something like that.”

 

“I have not.”

 

Hiro glanced at Yamato then, and his next words died on his tongue. The moon had finally broken free of the clouds, and under the pale light, Yamato looked gossamer. Hiro had always thought that Yamato was delicate in his own strange way – he was like a hawk, or an owl, something with fragile bones but armed with sharp talons and a dangerous beak – but under the moonlight, it was like Yamato somehow snatched some of the unearthliness of one of his more human looking demons, handsome and ambiguous all at once.

 

And his eyes-

 

“Hiro?”

 

Hiro jolted, blinking rapidly when he realised that Yamato was giving him an odd look. His face felt warm then, and he looked away hurriedly, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. What was with those weird thoughts in his head then? Yamato would thrash him if he knew that Hiro was spouting poetry about his androgynous looks.

 

“Uhh, sorry, drifted off for a moment there,” Hiro said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, trying very hard not to look at Yamato.

 

“Hm…” It was obvious that Yamato didn’t believe him, but the Chief didn’t press.

 

Hiro groped for a new topic. “You know any songs?”

 

“What?”

 

“Songs? You know, to sing?” Hiro grinned up at Yamato slyly. “I bet you have a lovely singing voice.”

 

Yamato just gave Hiro a withering look. “I don’t sing.”

 

“Oh, so you’re a horrible singer then?”

 

“I didn’t say that,” Yamato said, and Hiro had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh. Yamato looked like an offended cat, all bristling and haughty. He was very prideful, even about things he claimed he didn’t care about. “Singing just isn’t my hobby.”

 

“It isn’t mine either, but still,” Hiro leaned back on his hands and cleared his throat. “ _If it is what you desire, I can be like an obedient dog-_ ”

 

“ _What_  are you singing?”

 

Hiro paused and gave Yamato a glare, then continued defiantly; “ _With a cord, a rope, or a chain, I’ll let you tie me up-_ ”

 

Yamato was looking a bit uncomfortable at this point, and Hiro wondered if actually, the Chief  _did_  understand sexual undertones. Huh, he thought he was forever asexual. A new goal in mind, Hiro carefully watched Yamato’s reactions from beneath his eyelashes, his lips curved into a little smirk as he continued.

 

“ _Or if you prefer, I can be like a kitten. I shall endearingly, with my fingers, feet, and lips, indulge you_.”

 

“Hiro,” Yamato’s tone was a low warning growl. Hiro happily ignored him.

 

“ _Whoever indulges their passions first, such things do not matter. The colours come out like scattered paint, no one can be at their zenith eternally, I want to know more and more-_ ”

 

Yamato kicked him off the Tarrasque.

 

The sea was very cold, and Hiro couldn’t hold back the rather girlish shriek when he hit the water. He floundered at first, the ice cold feeling making his chest seize and his lungs frozen as he sank a few feet. When he broke the surface through flailing alone, he gasped loudly, managing to get his limbs to tread water. “Oh my  _god_!”

 

The Tarrasque had stopped when Yamato kicked Hiro off at least, but the Chief was smirking at him from atop of the demon’s shell, looking vindictively satisfied.

 

“I’m sorry, that was by accident,” Yamato purred, his tone thoroughly malicious.

 

“L-Like f-fuck!” Hiro wheezed, his teeth chattering violently. He swam back over to the turtle demon, and used its scaly leg to help him haul himself out of the freezing water. Yamato didn’t move to help at all – the  _bastard_  – and Hiro eventually crawled back onto the Tarrasque’s shell, soaked through and shivering.

 

Yamato laughed at him. “You look like a drowned rat,” he chuckled, moving over to where Hiro was crouched on the shell, glaring at him viciously.

 

Now, if Hiro had a few seconds to think things through, he would’ve known it was a bad idea to do what he did next. But he didn’t, and he was cold and angry, so as soon as Yamato was in arm’s distance – Hiro tackled him.

 

They both fell off the Tarrasque, and this time hitting the cold water wasn’t as shocking as it was the first time. Hiro resurfaced, coughing slightly, and used one hand to sweep his fringe out of his eyes. “Hah! Serves you…right…”

 

Hiro blinked when it was just him and the Tarrasque. “Yamato?”

 

There was a pause, and suddenly Hiro felt uneasy. Yamato…could swim, right? Well, he assumed that he could, why else would he go out to sea on the back of a giant turtle without something buoyant otherwise, right?

 

“Yamato?” he called again, his voice timid. He looked at the turtle demon, but it just merely looked back at him with an expression of profound boredom. Maybe he should-

 

Something pulled hard on his ankle and Hiro shrieked – getting a mouthful and eyeful of saltwater for it.

 

After much floundering and flailing, Hiro managed to resurface. Wheezing and coughing up the water he had accidentally inhaled, his stinging eyes squinted at the pale smear in front of him. “Yamato! You jerk!” he half howled, half sobbed, lashing out with a fist. Judging by the grunt he managed to punch Yamato somewhere. “I thought you’d drowned!”

 

There was a scoffing noise. “I would not have drowned from a stupid stunt like that.”

 

“S-Still,” Hiro hiccupped, wiping at his eyes. His vision was clearing now, although they kept tearing up. Fuck, ow, saltwater hurt. He blinked up at Yamato who was quite close to him. The younger man’s hair was completely flat, which was strange to see. Hiro was used to seeing it be all…fluffy.

 

Yamato shivered, and he looked paler than usual, but other than that, he seemed unaffected by the freezing temperature of the water. “Well, if we are done with our childish games-”

 

“You’re the one who started it!” Hiro snapped, and he lunged at Yamato, splashing the water violently. Yamato shouted when he got attacked by a great surge of water, and retaliated by splashing Hiro back.

 

“Stop that! What are you,  _five_?!”

 

“No! Not until you apologise you jerk!”

 

“Argh- stop it! Hiro-!”

 

“Apologise! Apologise!”

 

“Goddamn- Hiro I swear I will  _drown_  you!”

 

“Well good because I’ll drown you first!”

 

Yamato snarled something unintelligible, but finally braved the violently splashing water to grab Hiro’s cold hands. They sank a little, and Hiro hiccupped when he almost got dunked under – and looking at Yamato’s furious expression, he had a bolt of genuine fear that Yamato was really going to drown him.

 

Instead Yamato said, “I am sorry.”

 

Hiro blinked. “What?”

 

Yamato let go of his hands like they were something poisonous, his eyes narrowed into thin, angry slits. “I apologise for my childish behaviour. Now, may we please get back on the Tarrasque because I can no longer feel my extremities in this damned water.”

 

“Uh…” Hiro was still reeling that Yamato actually apologised, and didn’t murder him there and then. “Sure…”

 

They got back on the turtle demon, and sat down on the shell together soaked and shivering. Hiro watched Yamato cautiously as the younger man scraped his fingers through his sodden hair, his expression still furious. Hiro felt a bit guilty then, but really, Yamato started it.

 

The silence between them was tense, broken only by the sloshing water as the Tarrasque began moving again.

 

“…I guess I’m sorry too,” Hiro mumbled, sounding sulky and reluctant. Yamato gave him a cutting glare, dropping his hands from his wet hair.

 

“I’m sure you are,” he said frostily.

 

Hiro huffed. “Like you really meant it.”

 

“I did,” Yamato said. The air before him turned pale and cloudy. Hiro’s eyes dropped down to the younger male’s mouth. His lips were bloodless, almost as white as his hair.

 

Hiro reached out, ignoring the way the Chief stiffened like a snake ready to lash out, but he only took Yamato’s gloved hands on his own. He peeled off the wet fabric, and then rubbed the stiff, frozen fingers, letting out a wry little laugh.

 

“Oh my god we’re so dumb,” he muttered. “Here, let’s try to save our fingers at least.”

 

“ _I_ am the dumb one?” Yamato muttered, and Hiro gave him a flat look from beneath his wet fringe.

 

“Yes, you are. You’re the one who kicked me off the turtle.”

 

Yamato was quiet, and Hiro looked out over the ocean as his hands methodically rubbed up and down Yamato’s. The younger man’s hands were surprisingly soft and smooth. For someone who had such an active and vicious lifestyle of fighting demons, he had hardly any callouses on them; maybe because he always wore gloves…?

 

The clouds above had dispersed a little during their little water fight, and Hiro smiled a little. “Hey, you can see the stars now.”

 

Yamato looked upwards, his eyes half closed. His pale irises still caught the starlight, and Hiro thought them brighter than any of the stars above. “Yes. Polaris is visible.”

 

Polaris. The star meant something to them both, but Hiro could never grasp the meaning behind it. It was the North Star, part of the Big Dipper, but it raised such feelings of sadness and exhaustion within Hiro. Yamato felt the same, although Hiro had a feeling that Yamato knew  _why_  at least.

 

“So that way’s north, huh?”

 

Yamato gave him bland look. “Yes.” His eyes returned to searching the sky. “Dubhe, Merak…”

 

“Phecda, Megrez and Alioth,” Hiro cheerfully butted in. Yamato snorted.

 

“Mizar, Benetnasch,” Yamato hesitated briefly, his gaze becoming shuttered.

 

“…Alcor,” Hiro said softly, and squeezed their hands. He was surprised to get a squeeze back, and he looked down at Yamato to see him giving him an intent look, eyes like liquid silver.

 

“Polaris,” Yamato finished, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to say something else. Hiro waited patiently, but after that pregnant pause, Yamato lifted his gaze back to the sky, his pale lips set into a thin line.

 

Hiro wasn’t sure how long they sat there, their cold hands clasped together and huddled so close that their frozen breath mingled, but it eventually ended by a sudden jolt. Yamato raised his head, letting go of Hiro’s hands and slowly climbing to his feet as if every inch of him was painfully stiff.

 

“Are we there?” Hiro asked, slowly rising to his feet too. He almost groaned at the cold ache that throbbed in him. As soon as he was getting back, he was going to have the hottest bath he could tolerate.

 

“Yes,” Yamato said quietly.

 

The island wasn’t really an island. It was a rock with a flat top that was four metres by four metres, a perfect square shape. In the centre was a little indent in the ground.  

 

“Maybe we should fly back,” Hiro suggested as he hovered on the edge of the rock, watching Yamato walk over to where the seal was hidden. “It’d be quicker, and I don’t know about you, but I am freezing.”

 

“Flying is not exactly discreet.”

 

“Yeah, well neither is a giant turtle demon thing,” Hiro said flatly, glancing at the Tarrasque. “No offence.”

 

“If you have a demon large enough-”

 

“I do!” Hiro interrupted cheerfully. “Seiryu.”

 

Yamato rolled his eyes at him. A giant dragon wasn’t very secretive, but Hiro thought that Seiryu could at the very least fly them closer to the coast. It took almost two hours to get here by turtle.

 

But Yamato did dismiss the Tarrasque, and Hiro grinned in victory.

 

The seal, in the end, was fine. Yamato did declare that it was a bit weather beaten though, and that he would send some people to fix it properly in the next week – but the damage done to it wasn’t in danger of breaking the seal prematurely.

 

“What is that seal for anyway?” Hiro asked. There were thousands upon thousands of seals littered all over Japan, and Hiro didn’t even know one per cent of them.

 

“Something that would be troublesome if it got out,” was all Yamato would say, and he gave Hiro a long expectant look.

 

“Right, right, Seiryu.”

 

The dragon was a massive being, one that could curl around the tiny rock almost fifteen times with it’s long, snake like body. Hiro knew there was a dragon even larger than this, a dragon called Kohryu that was as golden as the sun with strength like a raging tempest. It was a demon that only Yamato commanded though, and he only had the pleasure of seeing it once. It had been absolutely  _breath-taking_.

 

Hiro still wasn’t used to riding on his dragons though, and he feared he looked quite clumsy to Yamato. The Chief, of course, strode over to Seiryu and mounted the dragon in one, graceful movement, just behind Hiro, his hands settling on the older man’s waist firmly.

 

“To the shore, please,” Hiro said, smoothing his hands over the scales just behind Seiryu’s horns. The dragon growled, a rumbling noise that travelled up Hiro’s spine, and the world lurched away in a rush of wind. Hiro gripped onto the scaled skin, trying not to grasp Seiryu’s startlingly soft mane, and squeaked in surprise when Yamato suddenly leaned forwards, his chest against his back, slowly pushing him down towards the dragon.

 

“You need to learn how to ride dragons, Hiro,” Yamato murmured into his ear, over the roar of the wind, and Hiro laughed out a nervous sound. That noise died a swift death when Yamato’s hand slid from his waist down to his thigh, gripping it firmly.

 

“It’s like riding a horse,” Yamato said, somehow being heard over the wind even though he was speaking normally. “You grip with your legs, and keep your lower back straight with your rear tucked under you; otherwise you’ll slip off when your balance is disturbed. Move with Seiryu’s motions.”

 

Hiro scooted and shifted until Yamato was satisfied, eternally thankful that the Chief couldn’t see his bright red face. Yamato leaned away from him when he was done, and Hiro looked over his shoulder to see that the younger man was smiling, his hair being swept away by the wind and his coat rippling behind him like a cape.

 

“You ride dragons often?” Hiro called to him, and was rewarded with a laugh.

 

“I command the Dragon Stream, Hiro, what do you think?”

 

Hiro couldn’t help but laugh too, and even though it was colder up here, the wind biting and sharp against his damp clothes, Hiro could feel a bubble of excitement rise up in him. They were flying so high, so quickly, and Hiro felt that if he reached up high enough, he could snatch a star right out of the sky and cup it in his hands.

 

He whooped, throwing his arms up high, the wind buffeting him, and he felt strong hands press against his lower back when he almost toppled backwards.

 

“Idiot,” Yamato murmured, and Hiro grinned when starlight grey eyes looked down at him. “Do you want to plummet to your death?”

 

“This is amazing,” Hiro gushed, curling his fingers around the back of Yamato’s neck, letting the Chief hold him on the dragon, his gaze arrested by Yamato’s. “I’ve never flown this high on a dragon before.”

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t, with how you are acting,” Yamato huffed, pressing his thumbs against Hiro’s spine. Hiro grunted and pulled himself forwards, away from the younger man’s body.

 

“I guess you’ll have to fly with me every time.”

 

Yamato said nothing to that, and Seiryu suddenly dipped down low in a twisting, fast pace that left Hiro dizzy and grinning like a fool from excitement. There was a crackle of energy, of something being summoned, and in the spinning world Hiro could see the Tarrasque waiting in the silvery ocean below, its eyes gleaming like hot coals.

 

Yamato’s hand gripped him around the waist, and he heard; “dismiss Seiryu!”

 

And although they were probably thirty feet away from the ocean, and that Seiryu was diving and twisting so wildly that Hiro couldn’t tell where the sky or the sea was, he obeyed. Seiryu was dismissed in cloud of harmless energy, and Hiro let out a shout – of excitement, of fear, not even he knew – and Yamato’s arm was tight around his waist, a steady anchor even though they plummeted through the air with a wildness of a leaf in the wind.

 

It was brilliant.

 

They landed hard on the Tarrasque, Hiro’s feet slipping out under him until his knees hit the shell with enough force to make his thighs go numb. Yamato was still standing – he landed like a cat, his legs bending into a crouch to absorb the impact, with his arm was still wrapped tightly around Hiro’s waist, his fingers digging into his stomach.

 

Hiro felt like he left his heart somewhere up in the sky with Seiryu, blood roaring in his ears and limbs weak with adrenaline.

 

“Oh my God,” Hiro laughed, the noise high and frantic, and he grinned at Yamato, whose own cheeks were faintly flushed from their freefalling. “You are  _insane_.”

 

“We are fine, are we not?” Yamato said, pulling his arm away and shifting to sit down properly on the Tarrasque. Hiro slumped onto his ass with much less grace. “Besides, you have to learn how to leap from a flying demon without injury.”

 

Hiro just laughed again, rubbing his throbbing knees. The shore was close in the horizon, a twinkling of bright lights. “Only if they’re a super Demon Tamer like you.”

 

“And you,” Yamato added. “You need to learn how to ride dragons better, by the way. It was almost physically painful for me to watch you.”

 

Hiro punched Yamato in the shoulder, but the Chief rolled with it, his lips curving into a little smirk.

 

They reached the shore with little incident, cold, wet, and aching. The JP’s vehicle, a smart, sleek looking car with tinted windows, was waiting exactly where they left it, the JP’s driver leaning against the hood with the glow of a cigarette lighting up their face. They hurriedly stubbed the cigarette out when Hiro and Yamato approached, but the Chief didn’t chastise them, and only waited until they opened the door for the both of them.

 

The interior of the car was warm, and Hiro gave an almost obscene groan as he sank into the comfortable leather seats, soaking up the warmth of the car. Yamato settled beside him, and Hiro let his head loll to the side lazily, his eyes half closed and lips curved into a smile.

 

“What a night.”

 

“It was long,” Yamato agreed, slowly rubbing his hands together. The fingers were almost white, and bloodless. Hiro took them in his own freezing hands and rubbed them.

 

“I’m going to bed as soon as we get back,” Hiro murmured. “Just straight up pass out.”

 

“At least change into dryer clothes. I would hate to have you miss work because you caught pneumonia due to your foolishness.”

 

Hiro gave Yamato a little glare then, his hands pausing their rubbing. “You pushed me off, we keep going over this.”

 

Yamato just stared at him, his face expressionless. Hiro wondered if Yamato was trying to look innocent.

 

“Ah, whatever. Wake me up when we get back at least,” Hiro mumbled, shifting until he rested his hand on Yamato’s (bony) shoulder, his hands still clasping the younger man’s.

 

Yamato didn’t let go, not even when Hiro was asleep, his fingers gently rubbing the warmed skin.


	7. Seventh Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato and Hiro have about an hour left to live – so Hiro sings about gay pirates. Yamato suffers.

Awareness came to Hiro sluggishly, his consciousness crawling out of a suffocating blanket of darkness that threatened to drag him back even now. A soft groan of pain slipped past his lips, and he shifted his weight – only to jolt upwards in a sharp movement when the ground he was lying on moved in turn.

 

Hiro yelped when the back of his head cracked against something hard, and he dropped like a stone back atop of the very warm and human feeling ‘ground’, clutching his head with a quiet whimper. “Oh… _fuck_ …”

 

“Well at least you remained conscious this time,” a low voice muttered irritably, and Hiro cracked open his eyes to see Yamato’s face barely a foot away from him.

 

“Wha-” Hiro squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, blinking groggily at the man in front of him. “…Yamato?”

 

“So you recognise me. Do you know your own name?”

 

“…Hiro,” he said in bemusement, lowering his hands from the throbbing pain in the back of his skull. “Where- what…?”

 

“We are stuck.”

 

Hiro just gave Yamato a confused look. As the haziness of a rude awakening faded, Hiro finally managed to actually observe his surroundings. The small space was lit up by Yamato’s phone, the bright screen casting everything into an eerie looking light. Yamato’s eyes looked unusually bright, his pupils little pin-pricks, and something niggled at Hiro that that was unusual but he brushed it off in favour of more important things.

 

“Look behind you.”

 

Hiro did as he was told, and frowned when he saw what looked like a broken wooden beam holding back a pile of rocky debris. “What the…”

 

“Do you remember the events that led up to this?”

 

“Um…” Hiro gave Yamato another befuddled look. The Chief’s face may as well be carved from stone with how blank and still it was, and Hiro felt a bit embarrassed. Hiro was trapped between the ‘ceiling’ and Yamato’s body – and who knows how long he had been lying atop of his boss. He hoped he hadn’t almost suffocated him.

 

“Humour me,” Yamato drawled. “We only have about, what, an hour of oxygen left, so we may as well pass what little time we have left with stories.”

 

Hiro felt dread coil in his stomach at that, looking about their small surroundings again. Right, yes, their little prison looked tightly packed with rock and debris, and the air smelt stale and thick – nothing fresh about it. The thought of dying buried under a pile of rock due to suffocation made him feel a bit queasy, but-

 

He looked at Yamato. The Chief looked serenely calm, so maybe he had a plan to get out of this – or they were just waiting for the other JP’s subordinates to dig them out.

 

“We…the abandoned building lot in Shibuya…” Hiro scrunched up his nose, finding the details a bit hazy and difficult to grasp. “There was a demon outbreak, and…”

 

“You got disorientated by a confusion spell,” Yamato supplied after a long pause. “However you don’t seem to be adversely affected by it anymore.”

 

Hiro gave Yamato a dubious look. He still felt a bit unsteady and confused, but…well yes, he supposed he was fine, current situation aside.

 

“So how did we end up here?”

 

“The building was currently undergoing maintenance due to weak structural issues. Someone got a bit too excited casting Megidola,” here Yamato gave Hiro a narrowed look. Heat crawled up the back of Hiro’s neck.

 

“…oops.”

 

“Oops? Oops does not begin to cover it, Kageyama,” Yamato snapped, the sudden anger taking Hiro by surprise. “You made us  _lose_  our quarry, and now we’re going to die underneath a pile of rocks because of you.”

 

…so maybe Yamato didn’t have a plan out of their situation after all.

 

“Uh, w-well, we had others with us, right?” Hiro said anxiously.

 

Yamato scoffed. “It will be a miracle if they could find us before our oxygen is depleted, I wouldn’t hold out much hope.”

 

They fell into a tense silence, and Hiro couldn’t stop feeling like their positions were entirely inappropriate given the situation. He was all but squashed up against Yamato, settled in between the man’s slightly spread legs with his elbows resting on either side of the chief’s body. He forcibly wrenched his mind from that path because that wasn’t helping matters.

 

Instead Hiro observed Yamato. The chief was staring up at the ceiling with that eerily still expression, pupils tiny and eyes almost feverishly bright. Hiro shifted subtly, pressing a hand against Yamato’s chest (which didn’t even bring about a twitch or a glare from the suddenly statuesque Yamato), and was startled to find the man’s heart beating at a worryingly frantic pace.

 

Hiro suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. Was Yamato scared? Well, probably. Hiro was feeling pretty scared at the moment, but it was hard to think that Yamato could even feel those types of emotions too. This was the same person who leapt off of flying dragons and stood up solo against towering, powerful demons – Yamato wasn’t scared of anything. Hiro could safely say that if the world was ending Yamato would stand there and laugh because he always  _had a plan_.

 

But…Hiro also remembered that underneath the Leader of JP’s title, Yamato was also a young man who loved takoyaki and cakes a little too much, didn’t understand popular slang, and got extremely sulky if someone stole the last cup of coffee from the employee lounge. Normal – well, a little weird, but still normal. And any normal person right now would be terrified.

 

“So, only an hour of oxygen?” Hiro asked, his voice sounding fake to his ears.

 

“Yes.”

 

“…how’re you sure?”

 

“I’m not. It is a vague estimate. I‘m not an expert on these type of situations.”

 

Hiro wrinkled his nose at the snippy tone and pinched Yamato hard on the arm.

 

The effect was instantaneous. Yamato let out a snarl of pain and kneed him hard in the thigh. Hiro felt a surge of victory regardless when those grey eyes flashed at him furiously, ignoring the bruising ache in his leg.

 

“What was that for?!”

 

“You were being too despondent,” Hiro said smugly. “You’re acting like we’re dead already. That’s not like you.”

 

Yamato’s mouth twisted and he dropped his head to land on the rock with a heavy thud. “I suppose it isn’t.”

 

Hiro let the silence settle for a bit. “What’s wrong?”

 

The look Yamato gave Hiro could kill a small animal.

 

“I mean, you’re acting weird. Normally in situations like this you’re like “rawr only weaklings roll over and die if your will’s strong enough you can bitchslap death in the face”!”

 

“I am not like that.”

 

“Well probably not verbatim, but you get what I mean.”

 

Yamato was stubbornly quiet, and Hiro smoothed his hands over his chest, still feeling his heart pounding away a mile a minute.

 

“…are you scared?”

 

The words came out very softly, but in such a small space it was like Hiro shouted them. Yamato certainly acted like he did, his entire being going taut in a second.

 

“It’s okay if you are,” Hiro said, “I’m scared too, but I think we’ll be fine. Makoto’s probably up there right now trying to save us, even if she has to do it with her bare hands,” he smiled a little, “she’s so devoted to you, I’m jealous.”

 

“Don’t say such embarrassing things,” Yamato muttered, his eyes evading Hiro’s.

 

“What about that is embarrassing?” Hiro asked. He pushed himself up as much as the narrow space would allow, pressing his hands against Yamato’s cheek. The chief stilled like a cornered rabbit, and Hiro stared at him, at how tense and agitated Yamato was. His breathing was a little shallow, now that Hiro was focusing on him, and every inch of him was as taut as a rubber band ready to snap in half.  

 

No, it couldn’t be…

 

“Yamato…are you claustrophobic?”

 

The glare Yamato gave Hiro was absolutely furious, but that just proved his suspicions correct.

 

“It’s okay. Small spaces are scary, especially ones like these,” Hiro said, moving his hands away from Yamato’s cheeks and trying to give him as much room as the small space would allow, which wasn’t much. “So maybe-”

 

“Do not treat me like a child,” Yamato snarled, his tone venomous. “I am _not_ claustrophobic.”

 

Hiro stared at him, unimpressed.

 

“I am not!” Yamato snapped, his voice pitching oddly near the end.

 

“You are,” Hiro said calmly. “But that’s okay. Everyone has a phobia or something.” He gently took Yamato’s hands, trying to make them unclench from the tight, trembling fists they formed. “I have a phobia of spiders.”

 

Yamato let out a choked snort.

 

“No, really, I do. It was because when I was little, I got chased by this really aggressive spider across my living room. Ahah, it’s really silly, but the fear and anxiety is there whenever I see a spider, even if it’s so tiny, and even if it can’t hurt me.”

 

Hiro squeezed Yamato’s hands. “Being scared of small spaces is a more rational fear, I think, than spiders, and being scared is completely normal too. There’s only me here anyway, and I’ve seen you in all sorts of conditions.”

 

Yamato was quiet, and Hiro let him be quiet, focusing on running his thumbs over the soft fabric of the chief’s gloves.

 

“I don’t think you’re weak in this,” Hiro added softly.

 

Yamato inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, closing his legs a little to give Hiro’s hips a little squeeze. “…a healthy fear of spiders is not something that is ridiculous, as several spiders have deadly toxins that can incapacitate or kill a fully grown man.”

 

Hiro grinned. “Like a Black Widow?”

 

“A Black Widow can kill a small child, or an elderly person, but not a healthy adult. Their bites are extremely unpleasant, though.”

 

Hiro nodded. “And a healthy fear of small spaces isn’t ridiculous either.”

 

Yamato sighed as if pained. Hiro doubted Yamato would ever admit it, even to him or himself, but at least he was calming down from his tense agitation from before.

 

“…it was as punishment…”

 

“What?” Hiro looked up at the quiet mutter, but Yamato’s expression was cold, and his eyes averted.

 

“…nothing.”

 

Hiro frowned but let it slide. “…we should do something while waiting for Makoto to get her pervy butt here.”

 

“Why do you insist Sako is a pervert-”

 

“Shh…” Hiro dropped Yamato’s hands and waved his arms as much as the small space would allow. “Shhh, shh, we don’t ask those questions.”

 

Yamato stared blankly. “…is the lack of oxygen finally getting to your head?”

 

“If there’s a lack of it, then how can it get to my head?”

 

“Hiro, I am not arguing semantics with you while we are buried under several tonnes of debris.”

 

“How do you know it’s several tonnes-”

 

Yamato slapped his hand over Hiro’s mouth forcefully, almost jerking Hiro’s head back. “If you finish that question, I will have to end your life here and now by strangulation.”

 

Hiro pulled Yamato’s hand away with a grin. “I know how to pass the time now. We’ll sing.”

 

Yamato looked like he’d rather eat broken glass. “You sing, you mean. It better not be a perverted song again.”

 

“No, it isn’t, unless you have very traditional views on love.”

 

Yamato sighed. “…sing it, then.” Like he had a choice in the matter.

 

“It’s in English, mind, so don’t interrupt to correct my pronunciation,” Hiro commanded, pausing to clear his throat before starting; “ _This water is too salty, for me to even drink. I’d rather walk the dreaded plank then stay another week. But it’s you, my love, you’re my land ahoy…_ ”

 

“Why are you singing about pirates?”

 

Hiro jabbed Yamato hard in the side. Yamato obediently shut up. He didn’t mind listening to Hiro singing, his choice in song content aside. His voice was unrefined, but still pleasant to listen too – although he couldn’t hold his high notes very well.

 

“ _And I’m sick of being beaten, and whipped and lashed to death. I want one night with no gang rape-”_

 

Yamato started to say something but Hiro placed his hand over the chief’s mouth and continued, smirking a little at the man’s uncomfortable expression.

 

“ _-but I won’t hold my breath. But it’s you, my love, you’re my land ahoy. Yeah, you’re my boy~ Yo Ho Sebastian! Let’s go far away! Somewhere, where the Captain won’t be mad! Yo Ho Sebastian! I wanna love you good! And we deserve much than we’ve had!_ ”

 

Yamato pulled Hiro’s hand away, but he didn’t say anything. Once he realised that the song wasn’t sexual – not really anyway – he just relaxed as well as he could on sharp rocks jabbing him in the back and looked up at the ceiling. He blinked when the light on his phone abruptly switched off onto sleep mode, but didn’t bother bringing the light back. The darkness was bearable with Hiro’s boyish voice filling it.

 

“ _They say they’re gunna kill me, if I look at you once more. Pissed in my hammock yesterday so I’ll sleep on the floor. I’d be under the sea, but you hold me above. And they put glass in my sandals, so my feet would bleed all day, and they forced me to wear them or they said they’d make you pay. I’d be under the sea, but you hold me above, ‘cuz you’re the man I love~_ ”

 

There was a noise that interrupted Hiro’s singing then, and the boyish voice faltered. Yamato, personally, was glad for it because although Hiro’s voice was pleasant to listen too, his choice in songs was not.

 

When the noise didn’t return, Hiro continued with a bit more zeal. “ _Yo Ho Sebastian! Let’s go far away! Somewhere, where the Captain won’t be mad! Yo Ho Sebastian! I wanna love you good! And we deserve much better than we’ve had~”_

 

“Is this going to continue much longer?” Yamato drawled. “Although your preferences are your own, I personally am not a fan of homosexual pirates.”

 

“Shut up, Yamato, and be touched by the magicalness of a forbidden love.”

 

“Never. Your English is also atrocious.”

 

Yamato could practically feel Hiro glaring at him through the darkness. “I said you weren’t allowed to correct-”

 

“I was not correcting, I was merely stating that your English is atrocious.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Hiro’s voice was sulky. “Let’s hear you try then.”

 

“No,” Yamato said simply, but a hint of smugness was clear in his tone.

 

“You are impossible,” Hiro laughed, and Yamato felt his hands press against his side. He stiffened in alarm. The next moment Hiro’s fingers were digging into his sides, pressing sensitive spots that made Yamato choke on laughter and writhe against his will.

 

“H-Hiro-!”

 

“Mmmmm?” Yamato almost felt Hiro’s grin, and he spat out curses between suppressed bursts of laughter, heat rushing to his cheeks. He’d never known he was ticklish of all things – so how did Hiro?!

 

“Damn it!” he roared, finally shoving at Hiro blindly and dropping his phone in the process. They both froze at hearing the plastic clatter somewhere in the small space, and Hiro laughed nervously.

 

“Oops, let me find it…”

 

Yamato caught his breath in the respite given to him, and frowned when he heard that noise again – like rocks scraping against each other. “Wait,” he muttered, grasping onto Hiro’s shoulder and making him still. “Do you hear that?”

 

Hiro shifted under his hand. “…yeah. What is it?”

 

“Not sure. It’s coming from above.”

 

They were both still in that dark, small space, and Yamato’s cynical side muttered that it was probably the ceiling collapsing a bit more. They were being protected only by a wooden beam after all. It could snap at any moment and crush them to death.

 

Yamato shifted when he felt Hiro move against him, blinking when he realised that the brunet was hovering over him completely like some human shield. “What are you-”

 

“I probably won’t be much use,” Hiro said wryly, “but I might as well try just in case the ceiling caves in.”

 

Yamato was quiet, automatically squashing the unpleasant twisting in his gut that was a mix of fear, and that unknown emotion whenever Hiro did things like this. In the darkness, Yamato could feel that hateful anxiety beginning to creep in again, the walls looming in ever closer, muffling everything underneath that blanket of  _nothing_ , and-

 

Hiro’s hands pressed against his cheeks, warm and real, and in the darkness Yamato could vaguely see the brunet leaning down close to him. “Oi, hey, don’t flip out.”

 

“I am not flipping out.”

 

Hiro hummed, his thumbs brushing along Yamato’s cheekbones. He let him, because he couldn’t move very well in the small space provided, he told himself. It was only because of that. The small space. Not because his touch brought him brief calm from the anxiety clawing at his sternum.

 

The noise sounded out again, much closer, and Yamato twitched when he heard some of the rocks surrounding their prison groan and scrape against each other. Hiro’s hands tightened on Yamato’s cheeks, but still remained gentle. A nervous humming sounded above him, but Yamato didn’t comment on it.

 

The light pierced into their prison.

 

Yamato was briefly blinded, and so was Hiro, judging by his cursing, but his eyes quickly adjusted to see that some of the rocks making up their ceiling were being tugged away. He could hear Sako shouting “Chief! Sir! Can you hear me?”

 

Hiro slumped against him in relief. “Oh thank God. I was almost pissing myself.”

 

“I hope you didn’t.”

 

“I didn’t. Don’t worry,” Hiro murmured, pulling his hands away from Yamato’s cheeks and awkwardly manoeuvring himself to the hole that had opened up somewhere near their legs. “Makoto! We’re fine! You were cutting it a bit close there!”

 

“I’m sorry! The rubble was a bit difficult to move-”

 

“No worries!” Hiro laughed, relief clear in his voice. “Just, you know, help us get out all the way now. I’m a bit stiff.”

 

Hiro caught Yamato’s gaze then and smiled warmly. “See, I told you, didn’t I? Makoto would come for us.”

 

For some reason Yamato found it hard to speak, but when he found his voice it almost came out in a strained croak. “Yes. You did.”

 

Hiro moved back so he was hovering over Yamato, and smoothed his fingers through dusty, pale hair. His blue eyes held a strange emotion Yamato’s couldn’t decipher, and his stomach turned into a writhing pit of snakes, his fingers and toes curling in sudden nervousness.

 

“You’re fine,” Hiro decided abruptly, pulling away with a grin. “I couldn’t see very well from the light from your phone- shit! Right!”

 

Yamato blinked in a rather disorientated manner as Hiro patted the space on either side of him, finally finding his phone with a quiet “aha!” He felt strangely disappointed.

 

“And this isn’t broken either, thank God. Alright, ready to leave this place?”

 

Yamato took the phone and pushed himself up onto his elbows, his body feeling stiff and numb from the lack of movement. He stared at Hiro, who was giving him such a bright, open expression of relief and happiness. There was a smudge of dirt across his nose, and his hair was in a complete mess, and his jacket had a tear at the collar-

 

It was all very ridiculous, really.

 

“Yes,” Yamato felt himself smile. “After you.”


	8. Eighth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto is a Moment Ruiner. Hiro/Yamato.

“Teach me how to dance.”

 

Yamato paused and slowly looked up at Hiro, his face one of mild incredulity. “…I beg your pardon.”

 

Hiro was leaning on the desk with his elbows, idly fidgeting with one of Yamato’s pens. He claimed he had finished his paperwork (which Yamato found highly doubtful), and was simply waiting for more work to come in by waiting in Yamato’s office, instead of having to walk all the way here to get it once it came.

 

Yamato found that explanation a bit lacking. Hiro was spending more and more time in Yamato’s office with each passing day, to the point where Yamato was tempted just to merge their offices into one. Hiro practically lived in here with him anyway.

 

Hiro smirked at Yamato, setting the pen down. “Teach me how to dance. I bet you know how.”

 

“Mm, I see. What is your evidence for that theory?”

 

“That you can dance? Well,” Hiro leaned back in his seat, and gave him a critical look. Yamato endured it with a tolerable smile. “Firstly, how you move.”

 

“How I move?”

 

“Yeah, I noticed it when we’re fighting demons. You have really fancy footwork, like, you’re always sure where to place your feet, and you move gracefully, and keep your balance…”

 

Yamato looked a bit bemused by Hiro’s gushing. “…you flatter me.”

 

“Ah, that came out creepy, didn’t it?” Hiro laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, it’s true though. So can you?”

 

“Dance? It depends on why you are asking,” Yamato drawled. He pushed his paperwork aside for now, leaning forwards on his elbows, his lips curving into a rather predatory smirk. He could see Hiro beginning to sweat with nervousness already. “Why, exactly, do you want me to teach you?”

 

“W-Well, uh…” Hiro fidgeted, his face slowly turning red. “I need…I have to learn how to do Waltzing!”

 

Yamato stared at Hiro blankly. “Waltzing.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And, you suspect that I know how to perform that type of dancing.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Hiro grinned sheepishly. “You just…seem like you know how to.”

 

Yamato rolled his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question. Why do you have to learn that particular style of dancing?”

 

“Well, it’s a long story…but Joe-”

 

“Ah,” Yamato was enlightened.

 

“I didn’t even finish!”

 

“No, but stating that name explains the oddity of your request.”

 

Hiro grumbled and looked at Yamato piteously from across the desk. “So? Will you teach me?”

 

Yamato gave Hiro a long, considering look. “Why not ask your friend, Kujou? If I remember correctly she is a dancer skilled in many different disciplines.”

 

“I can’t,” Hiro groaned, rubbing his palm over his forehead. “I can’t ask her, or Airi, and Io doesn’t know how to…”

 

“I presume that these are the limitations due to some bet you’ve lost with Akie, correct?”

 

Hiro sighed. “…yeah. It’s like you’re psychic.”

 

“Is Akie also banning you from paying for professional lessons?”

 

“No, but Yamato, do you know how _expensive_ Waltz lessons are?”

 

“Very, I suspect,” Yamato said in amusement.

 

“ _Extremely_!” Hiro whined, clutching at his hair in agony. “I’d rather pay the penalty game then pay that much just to dance! So…Yamato, you’re my last hope! If you don’t agree, I’ll have to- to ask a demon to teach me, and you know they ask for heavy prices!”

 

They do, Yamato agreed. He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, drumming his gloved fingers on his desk. He could practically feel Hiro’s desperate gaze on him,  _begging_  him to agree. Admittedly, Yamato did know how to ballroom dance, however, he hadn’t put those lessons to use in a  _long_ while and was slightly rusty himself.

 

Yamato looked back at Hiro.

 

“What do I get in return for my services?”

 

Hiro looked relieved. “Oh, I don’t know – anything. Name your price.”

 

“One task,” was Yamato’s prompt answer. “No matter what day or time it is, if I call you to fulfil a task for me you have to do it. No excuses.”

 

Hiro openly hesitated, but Yamato waited patiently. After a long pause, Hiro reluctantly nodded. “Deal.”

 

“Good, now,” Yamato tugged his paperwork back in front of him. “We will have to make a schedule-”

 

“Actually,” Hiro interrupted timidly, “can we…kind of do it now?”

 

Yamato glanced up, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I sort of have to learn it by tomorrow.”

 

Yamato felt slightly annoyed at that. Hiro knew he hated having things like this sprung on him at the last minute, and he tapped his fingers against his desk in thought. His paperwork needed to be done, but- well really, Hiro was a quick learner. He could show him the basics and let him practice them on some poor JP’s subordinate for the duration of the night shift.

 

“Fine,” he shoved his paperwork away and stood up in one smooth movement. “But I’m only giving you half an hour.”

 

Hiro nodded, eagerly leaping out of his seat. “That’ll be enough!”

 

It better be, Yamato thought irritably. He prowled around his desk and met Hiro in the middle of his office. The room wasn’t that big. The walls were lined with file cabinets, and the desk took up quite a bit of room, but between the desk and the door there was enough space to do a few spins without smacking into something at least.

 

Yamato looked Hiro up and down, who was standing before him looking a little embarrassed, and abruptly stepped close to him, taking his hands.

 

“I assume that you will have to learn how to dance as the lead?”

 

“Er, I think so,” Hiro muttered, awkwardly shuffling close to Yamato when he gave an impatient tug.

 

“Then I’ll assume the female role,” Yamato said carelessly. “Put your right hand on my lower back.”

 

“Um, okay…” Hiro’s face was a light red, and Yamato almost rolled his eyes at the timid way the brunet wrapped his arm around his waist.

 

“If you are going to be shy about it, I won’t teach you,” Yamato said sternly, and was rewarded with a slightly panicked look – but Hiro pressed his hand more firmly against his back and moved closer. Yamato nodded in satisfaction. “Good.”

 

Yamato settled his left hand on Hiro’s shoulder – and it was a bit strange to do this to someone who was smaller than him by several inches, but he brushed it aside and lifting up Hiro’s hand, adjusting its hold on his. “Not so tight. You are holding my hand, not crushing a walnut.”

 

“Sorry,” Hiro mumbled. “Do we have to be this close?”

 

“It is a closed position, that means it employs body holding or support, as well as handholding,” Yamato drawled. “Now listen: basic Waltzing has three steps per measure and that is what we will be doing. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

 

“Er, yeah,” Hiro frowned in thought. “Waltzing is three out of four beats per bar, isn’t it?”

 

Yamato nodded. “Yes, there are twenty eight to thirty bars per minute in a Waltz, so it is quite a slow paced dancing style,” he smirked in amusement when Hiro seemed to slump in relief. “Straighten up. You need to keep your back straight and body balanced while in this position.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” Hiro straightened up, and Yamato saw the redness of his face was finally dying down. Good, it’d be harder to teach him if he was stumbling out of embarrassment. “Okay, so, three steps per measure, thirty bars per minute. Anything else?”

 

“Yes. When you Waltz, you move your body in a pendulum-like swinging motion – there are other general techniques such as foot parallelism and contra body movement, but as we only have half an hour, I will only say move like a pendulum. Think you can accomplish that?”

 

“Yeah. Move like a pendulum, three steps per measure…I’ve got it.”   

 

“Good. Then we’ll begin,” Yamato said, and slowly started to move. Hiro was quick to follow – too quick. Yamato felt Hiro step on his foot almost immediately. “ _Slowly_ , this is not a race, Hiro.”

 

“Sorry. Um…”

 

Yamato watched Hiro’s face as they slowly (and clumsily in Hiro’s case) moved around the small space of Yamato’s office. The brunet was looking down at their feet, his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, his eyes squinted, and his bottom lip being viciously bitten between his teeth. Hiro would flinch whenever he stood on Yamato’s foot – which was often, thank God he was wearing these boots – but to his credit he kept with the slow beat reasonably well.

 

“You will find it easier if you didn’t look down at your feet,” Yamato drawled after the twentieth time Hiro stomped on him. “You are meant to know where to place your feet by feeling your partner’s movements against your body.”

 

Hiro reluctantly looked up at Yamato, his expression mildly guilty. “Sorry for stepping on you so much.”

 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Yamato said simply, smirking when Hiro started to fall into the natural sway of the rhythm. “See? It is easier now that you’re not focusing so much on it.”

 

Hiro blinked, but didn’t stop their easy movements. “Hey, you’re right!” He grinned suddenly, a bright expression that caught Yamato so off-guard he fumbled the next step and accidentally stepped on Hiro’s foot.

 

The smile was swiftly replaced with a grimace. “Ow.”

 

Yamato grunted an apology, but Hiro was looking devious. Yamato only had a second of being suspicious before he felt the brunet push his body against his, sending him off balance enough to feel Hiro’s foot slam down on his own.

 

“Ngh, don’t be childish,” Yamato chastised, tugging his foot out from under Hiro’s…only to immediately stomp back on it when the brunet relaxed. There was a pained yelp, but Hiro only looked more devious than annoyed, and soon they were dancing again.

 

Except this time the aim of the game was to  _intentionally_  step on the other’s foot.

 

It was a bit more exciting than the slow, methodical Waltz they were doing earlier. Hiro would push or pull against him, trying to overbalance him by throwing his body against his own, or hooking his legs around his ankle, or knee, or even thigh when he could reach that high quick enough, their hands grasping one another in tight holds that were more restricting than supportive.

 

Yamato saw the filing cabinet behind Hiro, forming a plan on how to win their dance-turned-spar, and grinned viciously at the brunet. Hiro’s eyes widened, and his cheeks darkened in a flush of exertion as he struggled against Yamato’s suddenly aggressive forward movement, fingers clutching at the back of his neck and nails digging into his skin as he shoved and-

 

_‘BANG’_

 

They collided against the filing cabinet, Hiro letting out a small cry from the sudden impact. Yamato laughed. Hiro’s nails scraped against the back of his neck and blue eyes glared at him, Hiro baring his teeth into a feral grin as one hand gripped onto Yamato’s arm, fingers tight, and used the filing cabinet as leverage to buck his weight forward. Yamato grunted when Hiro’s knee came startlingly close to his groin, giving the brunet a chance to lead them in a wild stumble across the office.

 

“This…is- ngh, ridiculous,” Yamato half-laughed, feeling absolutely foolish and absolutely thrilled all at once, and Hiro just grinned up at him, shifting his grip to wildly spin them around.

 

For a moment Yamato lost his place in the world, his heart freezing in his chest and ears buzzing with energy and then – a dull pain blossomed in his lower back when Hiro shoved him against what felt like the edge of his desk. His feet slid out against the floor in surprise and with a yelp, both of them tumbled onto the desk with a loud crash, the entire piece of furniture groaning in protest at having two fully grown men land on it at the same time.

 

The office was completely silent in the aftermath with the exception of their heavy breathing and the flutter of paperwork drifting to the ground. Yamato was still underneath Hiro, his hands grasping onto the brunet tightly, and he could feel Hiro’s hands holding him just as hard. The grip on the back of his neck slackened into something less painful though, and Hiro looked down at him from beneath dark eyelashes, his lips curved into a little smirk and cheeks flushed with exertion.

 

“Well, that was fun, huh?” he murmured, and Yamato realised that they were so close their noses were almost touching. He told himself to push Hiro back a bit, but his limbs felt like they were separate from his body and didn’t obey his commands.

 

“Yes…” Yamato replied, his voice sounding like it was a million miles away. He almost winced at the breathlessness. “Yes,” he said firmly.

 

“Not how I expected the lesson to go though,” Hiro mumbled, and he pressed his forehead against Yamato’s, his blue eyes almost deliberately hypnotic. Well Yamato was enthralled either way. “Do you always pick fights with your students?”

 

“Ah – a battle can occur anytime, anyplace, no matter what one is doing,” Yamato said, his voice rough to his ears. “Even dancing.”

 

Hiro chuckled quietly and those eyes, blue blue eyes slid half closed and there was a tension building in Yamato’s stomach, one that clenched and trembled anxiously as he felt Hiro’s fingers flex against the back of his neck. He couldn’t explain why though, and he feared that Hiro could sense the tension in his body – which was ridiculous as he had no reason to be tense, except that maybe Hiro was leaning a bit too heavily on him, making it difficult to breathe, or perhaps that was the tight feeling behind his sternum, but either way Yamato’s entire being thrummed with a violent energy, and he was certain he looked absolutely  _terrified_.  

 

“Hey-” Hiro began, and Yamato could practically feel him murmur that word against his mouth, the hand against his neck moving to cup his cheek when- 

 

The door flung open with a loud bang that made both of them jump. Hiro shot upright like he had been stabbed, his face blazing, and Yamato felt the same weird heat crawl up his neck to his cheeks. That strange, anxious electricity that had gathered in the air had safely been dispersed, and Yamato pushed himself up onto his elbows, his breathing curiously frantic and short.

 

“Sir!” It was Makoto. “I h-heard…ah…”

 

There was a pause that was so awkward even Yamato could feel the effects of it. He stared at Makoto, who stared at both him and Hiro with an expression like she’d been smacked on the head with something heavy.

 

“Sako-” Yamato began, and he had to stop because his voice sounded so strangled to his ears.

 

“I-I apologise, sir,” Makoto stammered, her face red. “I- ah, I, will- ah…” It was like something had broken in the normally composed woman’s brain, and Yamato could sympathise because something felt broken in his head too in this incredibly awkward situation.

 

Hiro was curiously silent, looking at the far wall like it was something fascinating, his expression looking…guilty?

 

Yamato couldn’t dwell on the mystery though, as Makoto abruptly bowed at the doorway. “I will take my leave now, Sir!” she said forcefully, and abruptly straightened up, grabbed the door handle, and stepped backwards while closing the door soundly. Yamato stared at the closed door feeling like he’d just been slapped.

 

Hiro suddenly slid off of him, straightening his rumpled uniform and peering at Yamato still half-sprawled on his desk from beneath his eyelashes. His cheeks were still a light pink, and a nervous smile played upon his lips. “Uh, so um…thanks for the lesson.”

 

“…right,” Yamato said, taking a moment to remember what lesson that was. “It was…no trouble.”

 

Hiro nodded, turning his head away and coughing into his hand. “Right. Uuuh, so…I’ll get us some coffee then while you clean up here!” he said, turning away quickly and marching over to the door.

 

Yamato watched him leave, a lump forming in his throat. Once Hiro was gone he slowly pushed himself up, the movements feeling robotic, and sat on the edge of his desk. Paperwork was scattered all over the floor, as well as some pens, and Yamato pressed his gloved hand against his mouth as he remembered the warmth-

 

He dropped his hand abruptly and got off his desk. He set to work to collecting the paper off the ground with a single-minded determination, setting the pile on the desk and making sure they were neat and tidy. They were. He stood there, his movements suddenly arrested, and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

 

He exhaled.

 

The door opened and Hiro shuffled in timidly, as if expecting to have something thrown in. “Ta da,” he said weakly, holding up a steaming cup. “Coffee…”

 

Yamato stared at him, and the two seconds he took to the reply felt like an eternity. What should he do? Should he do anything? What was that? Should he confront Hiro? Should he question? Should he act as normal? Should he be angry? Should he be happy? What happened? Why?

 

Why?

 

“Thank you,” Yamato said, and he sat heavily in his chair. Hiro walked forwards, his step light and cautious, and when he set the cup down Yamato reached out and took his wrist before he could retreat.

 

Hiro stilled, and blue eyes watched him warily.

 

Yamato watched him with equal wariness.

 

“…we can try again later,” he found himself saying, and he pulled his hand back slowly, his fingers running down the soft underside of Hiro’s wrist, down his palm and over the pads of his fingers. Hiro stood there, staring at him still.

 

“Dancing?” Hiro asked after a pause, his voice soft.

 

“Amongst…other things,” Yamato said slowly, and he couldn’t look at Hiro when he said that, staring at his coffee instead like it was a fascinating piece of art. It wasn’t. The mug was plain and there was a hairline crack going over the handle.

 

He heard Hiro shift his weight, and then the creak of the seat when he sat down across from Yamato.

 

“Okay,” Hiro said, and Yamato looked up to see him smiling at him, a small, nervous thing, but it was warm. “Sounds good to me.”

 

Yamato nodded and pulled a random piece of paper towards him, his eyes skimming over the words but not taking anything in. He felt tense, like he was standing on a tightrope and was ready to topple at any second.

 

“You know,” Hiro’s voice broke through the thick silence. “Maybe I should find a new dancing teacher.”

 

Yamato looked up to see Hiro grinning mischievously.

 

“You did step on my foot an awful lot,” Hiro said innocently, “you sure you’re skilled enough to teach me?”

 

Yamato hesitated, but took the hand out that Hiro was verbally offering. “Who else can you ask? Certainly not Shijima.”

 

Hiro laughed. “Aw, Daichi’s good at lots of things!” His grin softened into a smile as he looked at Yamato, and that wriggling tight feeling was back in his stomach, except this time it wasn’t as painful or invasive as before. “We should get takoyaki after this shift’s over.”

 

“After your shift is over. My shift is never over.”

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re Mr. Workaholic. Okay, I’ll go get some now.”

 

“Now?” Yamato queried.

 

“Mmhm. As a “thank you for teaching me” payment,” Hiro rose from his seat. “I’ll be back in half an hour or something.”

 

Yamato should say that Hiro wasn’t supposed to leave, since his shift lasted for another three hours, but instead he nodded. “Very well. Don’t take your time.”

 

“I won’t, I won’t. See you later!”

 

It was just Yamato in the office again, and he could drop the pretence of working. He rubbed at his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut as he berated himself for his selfishness. What was he doing…? He had no time to do…something like that, whatever ‘that’ was that happened but…

 

He was no fool. This was what they had been falling towards since the moment Yamato laid eyes on Hiro. He was no believer of that ‘love at first sight’ tripe, but he couldn’t deny that he had always been drawn to Hiro. It had just transmogrified into something Yamato couldn’t grasp or control and that was frightening. It was frightening and he couldn’t stop it.

 

He let his head fall onto the desk, the dull pain from headbutting the wood not doing anything to help. He was wading into territory he had no understanding of. It was madness.

 

“I have fallen…” he muttered to his desk. He got no reply.


	9. Gag Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otome Yanagiya teaches Sex Ed – in Yamato’s office. Hiro/Yamato. EXPLICIT.

“Chief?”

 

Yamato looked up from his desk to see Otome Yanagiya – JP’s resident head doctor – edging into his office. She was hauling what appeared to be a small whiteboard on a tripod behind her, with a bag full of unknown materials under her arm. She appeared quite overburdened to Yamato’s eyes, but he didn’t move to help her as she staggered her way into the centre of his office and dumped everything there.

 

He was confused. It looked like Otome was preparing for a meeting with him, but Yamato hadn’t had one scheduled with her. In fact, he rarely had meetings with her. Still, he quickly searched his memory banks just in case. He came up blank.

 

“Yanagiya, I’m not expecting you today,” Yamato said neutrally.

 

“This is an off the record meeting, sir,” Otome said, and although her smile was pleasant, her expression was similar to the one she wore whenever she teased Makoto about that man Ronaldo.

 

Yamato was instantly on guard.

 

“You know I dislike impromptu meetings,” Yamato said disapprovingly, his eyes dropping to the bag sitting at Otome’s feet. For some reason a bad feeling was rising in him. “If it is important, I will listen, but if not, please schedule a meeting for later.”

 

“This is important, sir,” Otome said, suddenly sounding a bit impassioned. Yamato was startled. “It concerns you and Hiro!”

 

Hiro? “Pardon?”

 

“It’s a matter of health and safety!” Otome huffed, and Yamato lowered any slight misgivings he had to regard her with interest. Ah, now that Yamato thought on it, all JP’s members, including himself and Hiro, had a physical in the last week. Perhaps Otome had some urgent news about it.

 

But this was strange; if a discrepancy arose in their physicals she would’ve called them to the infirmary…

 

“Now then, a little bird told me that you and Hiro are,” Otome linked her hands together in a gesture Yamato was unfamiliar with, “together. That’s wonderful, Chief! Congratulations! But, as head doctor, it is my duty to educate you on certain facts about homosexual intercourse to minimise injury and infections.”

 

There was a pause.

 

What?

 

“What?” Yamato said, completely stunned.

 

Otome continued blithely. “I’m not too sure about Hiro’s experience, but I know that you are a bit, hum, can we say, inexperienced? I’m certain you’ve done some research but-”

 

“Wait. Wait,” Yamato held up a hand, still reeling from Otome’s earlier statement. “… _what_?”

 

Otome’s smile became a touch devious, yet somehow managing to carry that innocent air to it. “Homosexual intercourse, sir. It’s a bit different to heterosexual-”

 

“That wasn’t- Yanagiya,” Yamato groaned, pressing his hand against his face. This was totally ridiculous. “I am not discussing such an inappropriate topic in my office.”

 

“There is nothing inappropriate about sex, sir, unless it’s forced,” Otome said sweetly, but there was an undercurrent of steel in her voice. “It’s best to get information on such a sensitive subject from a professional doctor, right?”

 

Yamato dropped his hand. “I will not ask how you came to learn of mine and Hiro’s…relationship,” it always sounded strange to use that term, he always stumbled over it, “but I assure we are not quite at that stage.”

 

“It doesn’t matter! You’ll be surprised how spontaneous sex can be! Now, not implying that you are a horny teenager, sir,” Otome said, gesturing enthusiastically, “but when your hormones are going crazy and the blood’s travelling to your genitals-”

 

“Yanagiya!”

 

“-you’ll find it quite hard to make rational decisions!” Otome finished. “I’m just asking for about an hour of your time. You can ask questions at the end, even. It’s just to ensure your proper safety, sir. You do know that if you do it wrong, you could harm yourself or your partner.”

 

Yamato wasn’t an idiot. He knew the physical activity of sex came with risks, but he honestly hadn’t even  _considered_  it with Hiro. Seriously, how were these people learning of their relationship?! Makoto obviously knew because she barged into his office at the worst time, but he knew Makoto wouldn’t dare tell a soul about what she saw. But others aside from Otome had hinted a bit heavily on knowing that there was more than camaraderie between himself and Hiro, so just… _how_?!

 

“I appreciate your concern on the issue,” Yamato lied through gritted teeth, “but I am not interested in sexual endeavours – nor is Hiro.”

 

Otome made a small choking noise in the back of her throat. “C-Chief, I…don’t think that’s true,” she said slowly, as it talking to a particularly slow child. “Hiro is a young man with a pretty healthy libido.”

 

There was a pause as Yamato eyed Otome with some suspicion. “And what evidence do you have to support that observation?”

 

Otome gave Yamato a look that made him unconsciously bristle. “Sir, trust me. I  _know_.”

 

Yamato frowned. Well, Otome would be the expert on these things, he supposed. The thought that Hiro had been thinking of such things, most likely about Yamato, made him shift awkwardly in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to think about it, really, but he supposed that was a conversation he would have to bring up with Hiro. The brunet had never mentioned anything like that to him before though…

 

He scowled suddenly and shook his head. What was he thinking? He was falling for Otome’s trap!

 

“Regardless,” Yamato said, recovering quickly. “Now is not a good time. If you must, you may schedule a…meeting with me to inform me on…that particular topic.” He would just make sure it wouldn’t happen for a long, long, long time. He was pretty packed when it came to meetings, after all.

 

Sadly, it seemed Otome knew this, and moved to counter-attack.

 

“Why not now?” Otome asked innocently, “I will only take an hour of your time, and you’re ahead of your paperwork, sir. You can afford to spend sixty minutes on such an important thing like this! Especially as it regards your sexual health!”

 

Yamato glared at her from behind his desk. Otome smiled back at him.

 

…damn. He couldn’t think of anything to refute Otome’s claim. He was ahead of his paperwork; he didn’t have any pressing matters to attend to – not until Hiro arrived to begin his shift, anyway. He could make something up, but he had a feeling Otome would simply tie him down to his chair with how adamant she was about this.

 

The problem with Otome was that she had a life outside of JP’s, like Hiro. If Yamato fired her, she would simply take her talents elsewhere, and as infuriating as she was being currently, Otome was  _brilliant_  in the healing arts. In the magical and physical sense, she was a brilliant doctor, and her prowess with magic rivalled Fumi’s and Yamato’s. She was an asset that was too valuable to cut loose simply because she wished to discuss embarrassing things with him.

 

Yamato wasn’t that petty.

 

Finding himself firmly back into a corner, Yamato resigned himself to his fate with as much dignity as he could muster.

 

“One hour.”

 

Otome smiled brightly at him, and Yamato grimaced at the sense of doom rising in him. He watched as she fluttered about the whiteboard she had dragged along, using a marker to scribble ‘Ways to have sex’ on it.

 

“Okay then. Yamato, what do you know about sex in general. Anything will do.”

 

Yamato thought, but could only come up with the textbook example. “Sexual intercourse is commonly defined as when a male places his penis into a female’s vagina until orgasm occurs – for either reproducing or recreational matters.”

 

“Good. So ‘penetrative’,” Otome chirped, scribbling that done. “Do you know how males have penetrative sex with each other?”

 

Yamato stared blankly at her.

 

“…guessing that’s a no. Well, not every homosexual relationship has to do penetrative. Some don’t even like it at all and rely on other means like, oral sex, or frottage, or rimming-”

 

“What?” Yamato interrupted, his brow furrowing slightly in confusing. He could guess what oral sex was, but the others…? “I’m not familiar with those terms.”

 

“That’s fine! That’s the purpose of this talk,” Otome chirped, looking entire too pleased with herself. She bent down, rummaging in the bag she brought until she pulled out a small booklet. She then placed it on Yamato’s desk. “This holds the basic information about it for you to review later, but I’ll talk about it now.”

 

Yamato took the booklet and opened it. A split second later he dropped it like it was something venomous. “Yanagiya!” he hissed, looking disgusted. “I cannot have inappropriate things like that-”

 

“It’s medical!” Otome protested. “Just keep it for now.”

 

Yamato glowered at her, and resolved to throw the booklet away as discreetly as possible later. He was not possessing books of- stuff like that. Hiro would tease him endlessly if he found out.

 

Otome rolled her eyes at him and continued with her lecture. “Anyway. Oral sex is when you use your mouth on your partner’s genitals. It’s colloquially known as a ‘blowjob’. There are some risks with it, like your partner accidentally nipping you, but, when you do oral sex communication is key!”

 

As Otome went on, Yamato was certain his expression was something mixed between morbid fascination and outright disgust. “…communication? How is that possible when one’s mouth is occupied with…other matters?”

 

“Communication through body language, sir. You see, let’s say Hiro’s giving you a blowjob-”

 

Yamato died a little inside.

 

“-there’s only so much of your erect penis he can put in his mouth, right? Now, the gag reflex-”

 

“Yanagiya,” Yamato groaned, placing his head in his heads in a perfect picture of despair. “I think I get it. No more on that.”

 

Otome was merciless. “I have to make sure,” she said sweetly, “The gag reflex is absent in about the third of the population, and I’m not sure if Hiro has it or not, so let’s assume like the majority he does. If you’re a bit rough on him, like, holding his hair and pushing him down, which will happen because, like I said, hard to make rational decisions when all of your blood is going towards you genitals, you have to be sure you can sense when Hiro is struggling-”

 

The pen sitting on Yamato’s desk was looking increasingly tempting with each word coming out of Otome’s mouth. He wondered if he could stab it into his chest with enough force to bisect his aorta. Possibly, if he aimed it correctly. Or maybe he could jam it into his carotid artery. He’d be dead in seconds.

 

“-Chief, are you listening to me?”

 

“Unfortunately…”

 

“Good! Right, so, deep throating feels really good, but it’s a technique that takes months of practicing,” Otome continued blithely, “It’s not something everyone can do, though, alright? So if you don’t like performing it, or Hiro doesn’t like performing it, then you’re not obligated to. A good relationship understands the limits of their partner.”

 

Yamato doubted he would ever want to do anything relating to this discussion ever in his life. That was his limit he thought up at that very second.

 

“How to practice deep throating is in that booklet I gave you, so read up on it if you’re interested,” Otome thankfully finished on that particular issue, but swiftly moved onto the next one. “Rimming! Now, surprisingly, the anus has many sensitive nerve endings that feel good when stimulated, and you can stimulate it by either using your fingers, or your tongue.”

 

Yamato looked at Otome like she was some freakish monster. “ _What_?”

 

“Don’t give me that look, sir,” Otome clucked. “Some people really like it! You don’t know until you try it, right? Now, if you do pleasure the anus with your tongue, you have to use protection. It’s really easy to catch horrible STDs or hepatitis, even if your partner rubbed that place squeaky clean. So I suggest stretching a condom over the anus to avoid direct contact with your mouth and tongue.”

 

Yamato barely listened. He was too busy being horrified that that was even a sex act. Who would  _want_  to do such a thing? It was so…so  _dirty_!

 

“So let’s add what we learned onto the whiteboard,” Otome said, her voice entirely too cheerful for Yamato’s liking. She wrote down ‘Oral Sex’, and ‘Rimming’.

 

“I forgot to add, but you can also use protection during blowjobs too,” Otome nodded, “if you don’t want to accidentally swallow any semen. You can still pleasure them through the protection of a condom.”

 

 _‘Oh God,’_  Yamato thought faintly,  _‘someone save me from this woman.’_

 

“The next one: frottage,” Otome continued on. “This is also known as dry humping. You can do it with or without clothes, and it’s actually a good place to start for a beginner like you. What you do is you and Hiro grind together,” she placed her hands together to demonstrate, “until you both orgasm. This one’s pretty safe and easy to do, so no advice is needed to be given on that one.”

 

“I see,” Yamato said, his eyes fixed on the door behind Otome. Maybe he could run for it – could he reach the door? No, he had a desk in the way, and he had seen Otome tackle a grown man bigger than Yamato to the floor before without any difficulty.

 

“Before we get to intercourse, there’s something called intercrural sex that you can do instead,” Otome said, writing that down on the whiteboard as well. “It’s like, let’s say you don’t want to be penetrated, so instead, Hiro places his penis between your legs or thighs-”

 

Yamato frowned. Why was he delegated the submissive position?

 

“-while lubricated, and thrusting like he’s inside of you. This is considered safer than penetrative, since there’s no internal bodily fluid exchange, and still feels just as good,” Otome finished. She crouched down to take out a few more leaflets and books (oh dear god why) and dumped them on Yamato’s desk too.

 

“I explained it as simply and basically as possible, but these give more in depth knowledge on it,” Otome chirped. “There’s also nothing wrong with experimenting so long as you’re protected and safe. Now then! We should-”

 

Otome was cut off when the door to Yamato’s office opened. Hiro stepped inside, pausing when he saw Otome, but simply smiled, unaware of the danger he was in.

 

Yamato feared that the look he threw the other male was a bit wild, but the silent message was clear.  _‘Run you fool!’_

 

Hiro’s gaze landed on the whiteboard and comprehension dawned in a few seconds flat.

 

“You know I have something I should-” Hiro began hurriedly but Otome was quicker, and before Hiro could wisely flee the scene, she had pounced on him, grasping his arm with a wide, friendly smile.

 

“Oh hey, it’s Yamato’s boyfriend~” she purred. “You’re just in time for an important discussion.”

 

Hiro found himself seated next to Yamato in the next minute, looking uneasily at the books on the desk. Yamato attempted to go to his happy place, with little success.

 

“I already went over stuff like oral sex, rimming, frottage and intercrural sex with the chief,” Otome told Hiro, “so if you’re not sure what those things are, read the books, or ask him, okay?”

 

Hiro took one look at Yamato’s face and grimaced oddly, like he was torn between laughing and crying. “…sure.”

 

“Okay, so we’ll move onto the big issue…penetrative sex.”

 

Yamato and Hiro watched as Otome took out diagrams from her Bag of Embarrassing Horrors, holding up what appeared to be a biology book picture of a male’s genital area.

 

“What makes penetrative sex so good? It’s this little thing,” Otome pointed to the prostate. “Stimulating the prostate feels really good for guys, either by fingers, toys, or another man’s penis. You have to be careful in how you reach it.”

 

Otome moved to point to the sphincter. “Everyone’s sphincter reacts differently with penetration. Some people just tense up really tight, and others find it easy to simply relax and take it in. If you want to do penetrative sex in the future, you have to know that it’ll be a gradual process. You can’t go “let’s do it!” and then bam!” She lifted her arms up abruptly enough to make Yamato and Hiro jump. “Do it! No! You can tear something, or cause the other extreme pain!”

 

Otome lowered her arms. “You see what you should do is get to know your body well. See how your anus reacts with finger penetration, if it feels good or bad tense or relaxed. Practice deep breathing techniques,” Otome glanced at Yamato, “you’ll be good at that, since you meditate. You can even experiment with small toys to get each other used to penetration, and communicate! Communicate and learn what each other’s limits are! Ask them what makes them tense, what they dislike, what they like – I cannot stress that enough!”

 

Otome put the diagram down and straightened up with a smile. “Hygeine and protection is important too. Make sure it’s nice and clean down there – but be wary of over the counter internal cleaners. They can be really harsh on your insides, and can cause all sorts of problems. Baby wipes can cause irritation too, so!”

 

Back to the Bag of Embarrassing Horrors, and Otome straightened up holding a few packets of what looked like wet wipes. “These’ll do. Premoistened adult wipes!”

 

They were dumped on the desk, and Yamato massaged his forehead as if fighting off a migraine. From the corner of his eye he could see Hiro tentatively picking up a booklet to thumb through it warily. “Yanagiya, Hiro and I have pressing duties to attend to-”

 

“I’m almost done!” Otome interrupted, and Yamato wasn’t sure whether to feel worried or relieved at that.

 

“Protection,” she continued, “is things like proper lubrication and condoms. Let’s say Hiro’s the one topping,” she said casually, and once again Yamato wondered why Otome kept delegating him the bottom position, “he would have to ensure that you’re properly lubed up and prepared, as well as putting on a condom. Some people like having their partners ejaculate inside of them, but you’d have to clean it out afterwards, so it doesn’t get all infected. A male’s anus is not like a female’s vagina.”

 

Yamato glanced at Hiro, looking mildly disturbed. Hiro, however, was looking thoughtfully down at the open book in his hands and completely missed it.

 

“Now let’s see, have I missed anything out…” Otome mused aloud. “Hmm, nope! I think that’s all! Like I said, those books contain a lot of information too, so be sure to read them! Have you got any questions?”

 

“Can you please leave now?” Yamato answered promptly.

 

Otome tutted. “Be grouchy all you like, sir, but I’m proud that I did my duties as a doctor. Remember, if you get an injury – and it does happen no matter how careful you are, don’t hesitate to come to me. Hiding sex injuries will only make them worse, and you can’t trust a Diarama to get the job done! Infections can still happen.”

 

“Yanagiya,” Yamato groaned, cradling his head in his hands. “Please. _Leave_.”

 

Otome smiled, a truly kind, innocent, and terrifying smile, and picked up her near empty bag. “Before I go, here. A present.”

 

Yamato stared blankly as Otome set a bottle full of clear liquid, and a packet of condoms on his desk.

 

“Yanagiya.”

 

“Leaving!” Otome chirped, hurriedly moving over to collect her whiteboard. She didn’t wipe off the words she scribbled on there earlier (Oral sex, frottage, rimming, intercrural sex), and cheerfully dragged it over to the office door. She looked far too pleased for herself, and Yamato wished he could punish her in some way.

 

He’ll try to find an awful mission where she’d be both useful and miserable.

 

“So…” Hiro said slowly. Yamato reluctantly turned to look at him. Hiro was smiling oddly, closing the book he had been reading. “What brought that on?”

 

“I don’t know,” Yamato groaned, slumping back in his seat to press his hands against his eyes. “She just randomly invaded my office and forced this torture upon me.”

 

“It is useful,” Hiro said suddenly. “The books and information, I mean. This isn’t something you can exactly buy at your local bookstore – not without getting weird looks anyway.”

 

“I suppose it is useful,” Yamato admitted grudgingly. “However I had no thoughts of participating in any of these activities.”

 

Hiro’s expression was mild, and so was his tone. “None at all?”

 

Yamato paused, glancing at the older man. He remembered Otome saying that Hiro had thoughts on this topic, and he got that awkward feeling again. He couldn’t describe it, but he suddenly found it hard to look at Hiro evenly.

 

“I…feel that it is too early to think of such things,” Yamato said diplomatically.

 

“It’s been a while,” Hiro pointed out, but he smiled gently. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do any of this, Yamato. I don’t like you just because you’re pretty you know.”

 

Yamato frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t say that.”

 

“What, that you’re pretty?”

 

“No – well, yes, that too. But if yourself wish to participate in these things-”

 

“Only if you want to,” Hiro said firmly. “Yamato, I won’t lie. I would  _like_  to do stuff like this,” he said, lifting up the book in a vague gesture. “I think it would be fun, and we’d enjoy it, but only in your time. If we end up never doing it then…okay, fine.”

 

“It’s not fine,” Yamato snapped. “Hiro, if there is one thing that irritates me; it is your constant selfless attitude.”

 

Hiro looked a bit annoyed, but he thankfully remained composed. “Yamato, I like teasing you and junk, but that doesn’t mean I want to make you genuinely uncomfortable in something like this-”

 

Yamato pressed his hand against Hiro’s mouth, muffling his next words. “Just. Stop. It.”

 

Hiro obediently quietened, his blue eyes watching Yamato closely.

 

“Although I appreciate your offer of chastity, I am not foolish enough to think that you would be content with just that,” Yamato said, removing his hand from Hiro’s mouth. He narrowed his eyes when the older man moved to speak, and Hiro grudgingly settled back with a scowl. “Humans are sexual creatures, I am aware of this. I myself am not driven by such feelings, but someone like you, who apparently holds a healthy libido, a chaste relationship would be a strain on you.”

 

“I’m fine with just mastu-”

 

“Let me finish,” Yamato said coldly. “Truly think on it, instead of blindly sacrificing something for the sake of your own moral satisfaction. You find me physically attractive to the point of sexual arousal, correct?”

 

Hiro was quiet before sourly asking; “am I allowed to talk now?”

 

“Yes, you are allowed to talk now.”

 

“Then yes, I do,” Hiro said without a hint of shame.

 

Yamato nodded. “Then are you prepared to being unable to act on those feelings? If you wish to be with me, can you do that for years upon years? Of wanting to be sexually intimate but being unable to act on your desires? Of being unable to vent those desires on anything else except your own hand?”

 

Hiro was silent for a long moment, truly thinking on it. With an expression of slight pain, Hiro said softly; “no, I don’t think I can.”

 

“Then don’t make promises that you know you are unable to keep,” Yamato said frostily. “By doing so you are looking down on me.”

 

Hiro scraped his fingers through his hair, looking troubled. “Then…what? Do you want us to cut this off or something?”

 

“No,” Yamato relaxed a fraction, reaching out to prod Hiro on the forehead a bit harder than necessary. “For all of your sharp wit, Hiro, you can be incredibly thick at times.”

 

“What? You’re the one who said-”

 

“I  _said_  I hadn’t thought about it,” Yamato said sharply. “At no point did I say I did not want to participate in sex. I am not sexually driven, this is true, but that does not mean I cannot enjoy sexual encounters – as…mortifying as they are to me.”

 

Hiro looked like he was struggling with a particularly difficult math problem, but Yamato waited patiently.

 

“So…if one day, I was to say that…I wanted to try something with you…” Hiro said haltingly, his blue eyes peeking at Yamato warily. “You’d be willing to.”

 

“Yes. I would be willing to try it.”

 

“And you’d be okay with that?” Hiro asked, his expression lightening. Yamato felt his own irritable mood lighten in the face of it, and he struggled to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at how stupidly open the older man’s face was.

 

“I would be okay with it. I just ask that you give me time to think on it. Especially if it is something adventurous like…” he grimaced, looking disgusted, “rimming…”

 

Hiro laughed. “Oh, no, don’t worry. I won’t ask you to do anything like that.”

 

“Good. Because truthfully I doubt I would ever agree to do something like that,” Yamato muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort.

 

Hiro shook his head and leaned forwards, grasping Yamato’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his neck. “Alright,” he said simply, “but if you don’t like something, you tell me. Even if I like it, I’d hate myself if I did something that made you feel really uncomfortable.”

 

Yamato held Hiro’s gaze for a moment before smiling. “Very well, that seems like a fair compromise.”

 

“Seems? It is a fair one, damn it,” Hiro grinned, his fingers sliding over the hem of Yamato’s glove. “So, what if you end up not liking anything sexual at all…?”

 

Yamato abruptly pulled his hand away and cuffed Hiro around the ear. Hiro, of course, whined even if the pain was minimal.

 

“Ow! What the hell, Yamato?!”

 

“Don’t think about such pessimistic things,” Yamato scoffed. “Now help me clean my desk up before anyone else comes in.”

 

They did so as quickly as possible, Yamato forcing Hiro to carry the pile of books and leaflets with a few innocuous papers on top to try and disguise the titles. Sadly the bottle of lube and condoms had to make home in Yamato’s coat pocket, much to his discomfort. His pockets were the only ones deep enough, and he refused to keep them in his desk drawer.

 

“So where am I taking these?” Hiro asked dryly.

 

“Take them to your unofficial dormitory,” Yamato ordered. “Then come back post-haste. We have a mission to do together.”

 

“Aye, aye, Capt’n.”

 

Hiro left, and Yamato heaved a loud sigh in the silence of his room. He knew he was getting into something tangled and complicated, but he had no idea that there had been this minefield waiting for him. He honestly hadn’t thought of sex, so having it thrust into his face so rudely was startling.

 

…but not off putting, he found. There were some aspects of it that made him instinctively recoil, but he enjoyed Hiro’s closeness, and in the few intimate…kisses they had shared, he found he enjoyed them too. So the thought of deepening that intimacy, which was addictive, was rather pleasant to consider…

 

Yamato rubbed at his mouth contemplatively before giving himself a shake. No. Now was not the time to think inappropriate things. He’ll do it later, when deciding where to condemn Otome for humiliating him like this.

 

He smirked coldly. Ah, there was a mission asking for a healer to go to one of the villages in the mountains. A bad case of curses and disfiguring mystery illnesses…yes, that would be perfect. It lasted for a month too, so he wouldn’t have to endure her teasing as well.

 

Alright he lied earlier. He wasn’t petty enough to fire her, but he sure was vindictive enough to enjoy making her suffer.  


	10. Ninth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Texts, New Year’s and the first sunrise. Hiro/Yamato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hatsuhinode – This is the first sunrise of the year. Quite a few people go to the coast or the mountains to watch it.
> 
> Hatsumōde – This is the first shrine visit of the New Years, normally done on the first, second, or third day of January. Men usually wear kimono when visiting the shrine, where they make wishes for the year, get new charms, and return old ones to be burned. It’s basically a day of worship, mostly individual, and one common custom is to buy a written oracle from the shrine, called an omikuji. It comes with a good luck charm too! 
> 
> Osechi-ryōri – It’s a traditional New Year’s food. I’m not going to list all of the special meals and foods in it because it is long so here’s a link

**25 th December – Early Morning**

 

 **[00:01] Hiro:** MERRY CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAS~

 

 **[00:02] Yamato:** What.

 

 **[00:02] Hiro:** Merry Christmas. You know, celebration of Christ’s birth.

 

 **[00:03] Yamato:** I know what Christmas is. I’m confused as to why you’re sending me this when you are supposed to be focusing on your current mission.

 

 **[00:04] Hiro:**  I’m swooning from your extreme holiday spirit.

 

 **[00:05] Yamato:** You’ll be swooning from my foot connecting with your head in the next hour.

 

 **[00:06] Hiro:** What, from all the way in Tokyo? I don’t think you can get to Kyoto in such a short time.

 

 **[00:07] Yamato:** Hiro, you have been in JP’s for almost two years now, correct?

 

 **[00:08] Hiro:** Yes- oh. Terminals.

 

 **[00:08] Yamato:** Yes oh. Terminals.

 

 **[00:09] Hiro:** I thought Terminals are only supposed to be used in an emergency? Kicking me in the head doesn’t constitute as one.

 

 **[00:10] Yamato:** Sadly, you are correct. I will not kick you in the head then.

 

 **[00:11] Hiro:** Awesome. So when I get back, do you want to do something for New Years?

 

 **[00:35] Hiro:** Yamato?

 

 **[00:40] Yamato:** If I’m free.

 

 **[00:41] Hiro:** Then yeah. Good, because I was wondering that, you know, clear your schedule for the evenibrb.

 

 **[1:12] Hiro:** Trees are evil.

 

 **[1:15] Yamato:** I wasn’t aware that trees had the moral awareness to choose a life of wickedness.

 

 **[1:16] Hiro:** People always look at me in shock when I say you have a sense of humour. WHY ARE YOU NEVER THIS FUNNY IRL.

 

 **[1:17] Yamato:** Hiro, when I sent you Kyoto I’m certain it was to do something called ‘working’.

 

 **[1:30] Hiro:** I’m working.

 

 **[1:32] Hiro:** Anyway. So yeah, when I get back I was thinking we could go for dinner, since I’ll get in on the 31st before midnight, and then we’ll watch the first sunrise together!

 

 **[1:33] Yamato:** In what context?

 

 **[1:40] Hiro:** In, Hatsuhinode context? Unless you want to do Hatsumōde the next day instead?

 

 **[1:42] Yamato:** No, it’s fine. Dinner and sunrise sounds nice.   

 

 **[1:56] Hiro:** Oh shit I got what you meant now! Um, well, it can be however you like?? I don’t mind either way. It’s New Years so, if you want to be like that, or not, it’s your choice, ‘less you’re not picky either so we go with either??

 

 **[2:12] Yamato:** You need to learn to read back on what you type before sending it.

 

 **[2:50] Hiro:** Shut up. You know what I mean anyway.

 

 **[2:51] Hiro:** BRB.

 

***

 

**25 th December – Noon**

 

 **[12:13] Hiro:** I really want to sleep.

 

 **[12:15] Yamato:** then sleep

 

 **[12:16] Hiro:** Sorry, were you sleeping?

 

 **[12:17] Yamato:** Was.

 

 **[12:18] Hiro:** Forgot noon was your bedtime.

 

 **[15:02] Hiro:** Naps are supposed to recharge you right? Then why do I feel more sleepy ｡･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･｡

 

 **[15:10] Yamato:** What.

 

 **[15:12] Hiro:** You’re awake!!! ヽ(；▽；)ノ!!

 

 **[15:13] Yamato:** Perhaps a longer nap would do you good.

 

 **[15:13] Hiro:** ⊙ω⊙

 

 **[15:16] Yamato:** Stop it.

 

 **[15:20] Hiro:** ｡◕‿◕｡

 

 **[15:20] Hiro:** (◕‿◕✿)

 

 **[15:22] Hiro:** o (◡‿◡✿)

 

 **[15:25] Yamato:** You are being dropkicked.

 

***

 

**25 th December – Late Afternoon**

 

 **[19:55] Hiro:** YOU BASTARD.

 

 **[19:59] Yamato:** My parents were married.

 

 **[20:02] Hiro:** I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TOLD MAKOTO TO DROPKICK ME.

 

 **[20:03] Yamato:** She actually did it? That woman really is obedient.

 

 **[20:06] Hiro:** PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF DON’T ACT ALL SURPRISEDFGHSAADH

 

 **[20:06] Hiro:** AGDHFSHHAA!!!!

 

 **[20:07] Hiro:** щ(ಥДಥщ)

 

 **[20:10] Yamato:** You brought it upon yourself.

 

 **[20:15] Hiro:** You are going to pay.

 

 **[20:16] Yamato:** Am I now?

 

 **[20:18] Hiro:** SHE KICKED ME REALLY HARD OKAY! SHE APOLOGISED BUT FUCK

 

 **[20:20] Yamato:** I apologise Hiro, but I am laughing at your misery.

 

 **[20:22] Hiro:** It’s on now. Yamato, you will be crying for mercy by tonight.

 

 **[20:25] Yamato:** Are you going to torture me with more emoticons.

 

 **[20:26] Hiro:** Otome.

 

 **[20:27] Yamato:** What.

 

 **[20:28] Hiro:** I’m going to tell Otome that you’ve been suffering some abdominal pains for the past few days, but you’re too stubborn to go to her. I WILL TELL HER AS A CONCERNED FRIEND.

 

 **[20:30] Yamato:** No.

 

 **[20:30] Hiro:** Yes.

 

 **[20:31] Yamato:** No. NO.

 

 **[20:32] Hiro:** YES.

 

***

 

**25 th December – Late Evening**

 

 **[23:39] Yamato:** HIRO. YOU.

 

**[23: 50] Hiro:** **凸(*** **≧** **▽≦)**

 

 **[23:55] Yamato:** Fsgh.

 

 **[23:56] Yamato:** I am going to kill you.

 

 **[23:56] Yamato:** Painfully.

 

 **[23:57] Hiro:** You love me, really.

 

 **[00:30] Hiro:** Yamato?

 

 **[1:45] Hiro:** Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit~

 

***

 

**27 th December – Noon**

 

 **[12:33] Hiro:** Yamato, stop ignoring me~  (´；д；`)

 

 **[12:36] Yamato:** I’m sleeping.

 

 **[12:38] Hiro:** Right. Like I’m meant to believe you can sleep text.

 

 **[12:39] Hiro:** Anyway, I’m sorry about setting Otome on you. But you made Makoto dropkick me!

 

 **[12:42] Yamato:** I did not intend for her to actually do it. I was joking when I sent the orders to her.

 

 **[12:44] Hiro:** Yamato it’s Makoto, and you never joke with anyone but me, so of course she was gonna take them srsly afgfhaadd you are impossible.

 

 **[12:50] Hiro:** I’m not going to come back with you sulking at me.

 

 **[13:10] Hiro:** It’s like dealing with a spoilt ten year old.

 

 **[13:12] Yamato:** What.

 

 **[13:12] Hiro:** Are you really that mad at me?

 

 **[13:31] Yamato:** I’m irritated.

 

 **[13:32] Hiro:** So yeah?

 

 **[13:56] Yamato:** So no.

 

 **[13:57] Hiro:** Trying to figure you out is bad for my health.

 

 **[13:57] Hiro:** No more dropkicking pls.

 

***

 

**29 th December – Late Morning**

 

 **[10:40] Hiro:** I’m sick of Kyoto.

 

 **[10:42] Hiro:** It’s a nice place, I mean. Lovely sights. I should come here with Io and Daichi.

 

 **[10:43] Hiro:** But I don’t get to look at the nice sights.

 

 **[10:44] Hiro:** I have to run around chasing some dick cultist with a tree fetish.

 

 **[10:46] Hiro:** A tree fetish.

 

 **[10:47] Hiro:** I’m not joking either. Some of the confiscated notes are.

 

 **[10:47] Hiro:** Beyond creepy.

 

 **[10:48] Hiro:** We’ve gotten rid of his lackeys now, so that’s something. They’re in jail yay~

 

 **[10:50] Hiro:** But won’t be able to send text in a while. Gonna take a nap and then me and Makoto are moving out.

 

 **[10:52] Hiro:** Still on for dinner when I get back, right?

 

 **[10:58] Hiro:** Okay naptime. Talk to you later. Wish me luck~

 

 **[16:32] Yamato:** Still on for dinner. Good luck.

 

***

 

**30 th December – Early Morning**

 

 **[6:55] Yamato:** Congratulations on a successful mission.

 

 **[7:02] Hiro:** I’d use success very loosely.

 

 **[7:04] Yamato:** The rogue cultist was stopped, was he not?

 

 **[7:10] Hiro:** More like grossly dismembered. It was a disturbing sight.

 

 **[7:11] Hiro:** He was a sick freak, but no one deserves to die like that.

 

 **[7:12] Hiro:** It was just.

 

 **[7:20] Yamato:** You’ve seen torn remains before.

 

 **[7:44] Hiro:** Yeah. I have.

 

 **[7:46] Yamato:** Have your report on the situation written before you come into Tokyo tomorrow.

 

 **[7:49] Hiro:** kk.

 

 **[8:12] Yamato:** We do not have to go to dinner.

 

 **[8:20] Hiro:** You don’t want to go anymore?

 

 **[8:25] Yamato:** You seem unsettled by what happened.

 

 **[8:31] Hiro:** It’s fine. I want to go. Nice of you to worry about me though♥♥♥

 

 **[8:32] Yamato:** I just thought dinner would be a miserable affair if you were upset during it.

 

 **[8:32] Yamato:** That’s all.

 

 **[8:35] Hiro:** Yamato, you’re so tsundere at times I can barely take it.

 

 **[8:50] Yamato:** I am not.

 

 **[8:53] Hiro:** You had to look it up didn’t you. Tsundere Princess.

 

 **[8:56] Yamato:** Hiro.

 

 **[8:56] Hiro:** Shutting up.

 

***

 

**30 th December – Late Evening**

 

 **[23:12] Hiro:** You like chocolate right?

 

 **[23:30] Yamato:** Yes.

 

 **[23:31] Hiro:** All three types?

 

 **[23:33] Yamato:** Yes.

 

 **[23:35] Hiro:** Exceeeeeeellent.

 

***

 

**31 st December – Early evening**

 

 **[17:55] Makoto:** My phone died. How lame.

 

 **[17:57] Yamato:** So you rob Sako of her own.

 

 **[17:59] Makoto:** I asked her actually! She’s sitting right next to me on the train watching me type as we speak.

 

 **[18:02] Yamato:**  Oh dear, performance anxiety has arisen.

 

 **[18:03] Makoto:** Afgh see! You’re only this snarky in text form. It’s weird.

 

 **[18:05] Makoto:** We should get in in a few hours. Remember! We’re having dinner!

 

 **[18:07] Yamato:** Yes. I’ve made the necessary arrangements, don’t worry.

 

 **[18:10] Yamato:** No ‘fancy restaurants’, I promise.

 

 **[18:12] Makoto:** Thank God, I was worried then. So we’re gonna have takoyaki, right?

 

 **[18:15] Yamato:** I don’t eat just takoyaki. No. I have prepared the traditional meal for it.

 

 **[18: 16] Makoto:** Wait…you can cook?

 

 **[18:16] Makoto:** WAIT. We’re having rice cakes and Osechi-ryōri??

 

 **[18:20] Yamato:** You will see. It is not hard to follow cookery instructions.

 

 **[18:22] Makoto:** Yamato. That is adorable. It’s so adorable. I can’t handle it, ahhh…

 

 **[18:25] Yamato:** Don’t faint. I don’t think Sako would enjoy having you sprawling across her lap.

 

 **[18:26] Makoto:** I dunno. She is a pervert.

 

 **[18:28] Yamato:** I will see you in a few hours. I have some business to wrap up before you get in.

 

 **[18:28] Makoto:** Bye ♥♥♥!!

 

***

 

**31 st December – Late Evening**

 

 **[21:02] Hiro:** PHONE IS CHARGING. I’M NOT LATE AM I?

 

 **[21:04] Yamato:** There is no set reservation. I will wait.

 

 **[21:06] Hiro:** Just showering/changing. Stuff. Was all gross from stuff.

 

 **[21:10] Yamato:** Once you’re done, return to JP’s headquarters.

 

 **[21:19] Hiro:** It’s happening there?

 

 **[21:22] Yamato:** We are meeting up there. You don’t know where I live, do you?

 

 **[21:24] Hiro:** I thought you lived in your office.

 

 **[21:25] Hiro:** Srsly. I thought you actually did. Like you napped under your desk or something.

 

 **[21:27] Yamato:** I am going to smack you when I see you. I live in an apartment, Hiro.

 

 **[21:28] Yamato:** With a bed and everything.

 

 **[21:30] Hiro:** Huh. My mind is blown.

 

 **[21:39] Hiro:** Kk! Leaving my place!

 

 **[21:40] Hiro:** Be there in half an hourish!

 

***

 

**January 1 st – Early Morning**

 

“It’s warmer than I thought,” Hiro remarked, smiling at Yamato past his scarf. Despite his words, he was still dressed for the winter, a thick coat replacing his white hoodie and a plush blue scarf almost hiding the bottom half of his face from view. Yamato himself was dressed a bit ‘normally’, in that he wasn’t wearing his iconic long trench coat. Instead he was wearing a thick winter’s coat, the one he wore back in Aokigakure.

 

“The Kuroshio Current keeps Chiba warmer in the winter than Tokyo,” Yamato replied, his eyes trained on the horizon. They were standing near Inubōsaki Lighthouse, with the cry of the gulls and the sound of the waves hitting the breach washing over them. There were a few people milling about as well, all waiting for the first sunrise of the year.

 

Hiro hummed and turned his gaze towards the sea as well. The horizon was a dimly lit by splashes of orange and pink, but the sun hadn’t yet made an appearance. The sky was cloudy, just enough that it caught the colours of the growing dawn, but not thick enough to conceal everything.

 

“I had fun, you know,” Hiro said suddenly. “You’re actually a really good cook.”

 

“As I said, it’s not hard if you have instructions to follow,” Yamato shifted beside him, and Hiro turned to see him looking at the lighthouse. There was a faint smile on his lips. “I had my misgivings about this, however…”

 

“Oh?” Hiro grinned and poked Yamato in the side. “In what way?”

 

“There are days where I understand that this is inappropriate,” Yamato said, and his smile vanished. “It  _is_  inappropriate however you look at it. It is something we shouldn’t do.”

 

“And what’s that?” Hiro said, shrugging lightly. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Nothing bad about being friends.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Yamato was looking at him now, and Hiro as usual found himself arrested by the intensity of those eerie, silver eyes. His smile felt frozen, and silence between them was filled by a gull shrieking shrilly.

 

“Yeah,” Hiro murmured, swallowing thickly, “I do.”

 

The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable strangely, and it was abruptly broken by Yamato scoffing quietly. “There isn’t much I can do with it, is there? Aside from sending you as far away as possible.”

 

“What’s stopping you from doing that?” Hiro asked, because he was genuinely curious. Yamato was a person who you couldn’t force to do things he didn’t want to. His will was like steel, and his temper, when roused, was as fearsome as a tempest.

 

“Nothing except me,” Yamato said wryly. “You are useful to me this close, and I am not foolish enough to send you to the furthest corner away from me where your skills will rot. Besides, it would be cowardice, wouldn’t it? I would simply be running away from you.”

 

“You’re not obligated to do anything with it,” Hiro pointed out after a brief lull. “You can just ignore it, and I’ll ignore it too.” The sun was beginning to crest the horizon now, and both of them watched its slow ascent.

 

“I am not obligated to,” Yamato murmured. “This is true. So I am doing it because I want to.”

 

“You want to?”

 

“I want to.”

 

Yamato said it so clearly that Hiro found it hard to doubt him – not that he wanted to doubt him. He looked away from the sunrise to see Yamato gazing at him fiercely, his pale eyes catching the light of the sun and making them gleam a beautiful golden colour. Hiro smiled gently, and he slipped his hand out of his coat pocket to hold it out slightly in response.

 

As slim fingers curled around his own, the rising sun painted the sky in a canvas of yellow and red fire. Hiro barely noticed – Yamato’s small smile was warmer than any first sunrise could ever be.    


	11. Tenth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That kiss had been so horrible yet so good at the same time. Hiro/Yamato.

 

“Hiro? May I talk with you for a minute?”

 

Hiro looked up from the pile of papers in his hands to see Makoto standing before him with a rather stern expression. The recreational lounge was empty aside from them, since not many JP’s members were in the headquarters at four in the morning. Truthfully it was the end of Hiro’s shift right now, but he wanted to sort of finish off his report before going home.

 

“Um, sure,” Hiro said, setting his report down on the table before him. He wasn’t sure if Makoto wanted to walk him somewhere – but the decision was taken from his hands when his fellow JP’s partner settled herself down on the chair across from him.

 

“I have been silent about it for quite a while now,” Makoto said slowly, her frown becoming a tad uncomfortable. Hiro was, simply put, a bit bemused about the whole thing. “But, after thinking on it, I…have to ask about your intentions.”

 

His intentions?

 

Hiro stared blankly at Makoto. She was staring back at him determinedly, although the tips of her ears were turning red the longer the silence stretched between them.

 

“Huh?” Hiro finally said, quite intelligibly. “My…intentions? Towards what?”

 

“The chief,” Makoto said, casting a glance at the closed lounge door.

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

_Oooooooooooooooh._

 

Truthfully, Hiro had been expecting this earlier. Ever since walking in on him and Yamato’s near kiss all those weeks ago, Makoto had been a bit discomforted in their presence. Not out of disgust, but more out of embarrassment from witnessing such an intimate moment between the two. Hiro sympathised, and because it had been embarrassing for him too he didn’t bring it up. However it meant that Makoto _knew_ , the only one who knew about the…weird thing going on between him and Yamato, so Hiro didn’t bother playing dumb.

 

“Well, they’re…” Hiro rubbed the back of his neck. “Friendly.”

 

Makoto gave him a look.

 

“Not in a just friends kind of way! But we’re not…doing anything?” Hiro backtracked. “I mean, we haven’t…”

 

“You…went to dinner with him last week for New Year’s,” Makoto said slowly.

 

“Just dinner,” Hiro said. And it had been _just dinner_. They had been their usual selves and- aside from that moment at the lighthouse, they had been their usual selves there. Yamato had said he wanted to see where this weird whatever went, but they weren’t like…boyfriends or anything.

 

To be honest, Hiro had no fucking clue what they were at this point. Thinking Yamato as his boyfriend almost made him cross-eyed in disbelief.

 

“It was just dinner,” Hiro repeated after a pause, “and we watched the first sunrise together. We’re…more than friends, but we’re not…doing anything either.”

 

“I see,” Makoto said after a pause. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything, and – I know it is none of my business, however…”

 

“It’s okay,” Hiro said hurriedly. “You’re just looking out for Yamato, right?”

 

“For both of you. The chief is…” Makoto paused as she groped for the right word, “a very isolated man.”

 

“I get what you mean. Don’t worry, after this long I can handle his assholish moments,” Hiro said, “Thanks though,” he added, smiling warmly at Makoto. “I appreciate the concern.”

 

And he really did. It warmed a small part of him that Makoto, who was always flustered and embarrassed in these types of situations, would come to see if he and Yamato were alright with everything. He admired her loyalty and kindness, really.

 

Makoto nodded and pushed back her chair, standing up. “Sorry for the intrusion in your personal matters.”

 

“It’s no problem. Like I said, I appreciate it,” Hiro waved her off, sensing her eagerness to leave the scene.

 

Makoto left, and Hiro looked down at his report thoughtfully. Although her visit was brief, Makoto had sparked a profound moment of thought in Hiro. He had never really considered where his and Yamato’s path was leading to. He regarded the man as one of his close friends (and although Hiro had many close friends that didn’t mean that it reduced his value any), and a very reliable comrade to have at his back – their bond was something that was already bordering on unbreakable.

 

So what were his intentions? Hiro didn’t know. He wasn’t trying to seduce Yamato or anything – and the thought of doing something like _that_ made his gut do some medically unhealthy somersaults in response.

 

However…he wasn’t content with just friends either. He enjoyed being close to Yamato, he liked the feel of his hair beneath his fingers. It was soft like dog fur, and Hiro was so glad that no one could hear his thoughts right now because that was probably the most unromantic compliment ever uttered. It was true though, Yamato’s hair was soft and silky and fun to touch, and it was a beautiful shade of pale silver.

 

Yamato’s eyes were very pretty too, now that he thought on it. He couldn’t really describe their colour – calling them grey was too dull, maybe silver? But they were like, like, Yamato had somehow gotten moonlight as a colour for his irises. Hiro didn’t know. All he knew was that they were incredibly gorgeous, and that Yamato had surprisingly thick eyelashes for a man, surprisingly dark too, considering his hair colour and…

 

And Hiro was sitting here thinking about Yamato’s stupidly pretty hair and stupidly pretty eyes like some lovestruck teenager.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered, glaring down at his report. He was hopelessly entranced by Yamato, and he hated himself for it because he felt shallow about it. Yamato was more than a pretty face. He was dangerously sharp and intelligent, with a powerful presence and an iron core of sheer will and confidence. If Hiro had to compare Yamato to an animal; he would compare him to a Siberian Tiger, or a Snow Leopard; he was some sort of solitary big cat that could claw off your head with one swipe of its paw and be proud of it too.

 

And Yamato did have some sharp claws on him. Some very sharp, nasty, harsh claws indeed.

 

“I need to go to bed,” Hiro said aloud, his face feeling warm. What was he doing, sitting around daydreaming about how cool and pretty Yamato was? If the chief could read his thoughts he had no doubt he would’ve kicked him in the head by now. Hell, Hiro wanted to kick himself in the head.

 

Hiro rose from his seat, collecting his report. He had finished it, it just needed a read through, but he doubted he could do it properly with his head in the clouds. He paused, groaning quietly. Right, he would have to submit it to Yamato…

 

He walked to his boss’s office, only meeting the one JP’s subordinate along the way. They looked pretty dazed, and Hiro recognised them as being one of the new recruits. JP’s headquarters always had a set number of people inside at all times, and the newer the recruit, the earlier they had to start their shift. It meant they’d overlap with those coming off the nightshift.

 

Speaking of. Hiro checked his watch, pausing outside of Yamato’s office. Almost half four. He shrugged and opened the door.

 

“Good morning,” Hiro greeted, closing the door behind him when he entered. Yamato looked up from the desk, his frown instantly warming into a small smile.

 

“Hiro. I would have thought you’d be at home by now.”

 

“Well, I was just finishing my report,” Hiro waved said papers about as he strode over to Yamato’s desk. “Had a chat with Makoto, got side-tracked…”

 

“Sako is still here?” Yamato asked, reaching out to take the report from Hiro. “Odd, her shift finished over an hour ago.”

 

“You know Makoto. She’s the princess to your Workaholic Kingdom.”

 

“Funny,” Yamato deadpanned, flipping through Hiro’s report.

 

Hiro sat down, crossing his arms on Yamato’s desk to pillow his face on them. The office was quiet, except for the rustle of paper, and the creak of Yamato’s chair when the JP’s leader shifted his weight. It was strangely soothing, enough so that Hiro found himself slowly drifting off…

 

“Hiro.”

 

Hiro jolted awake when he felt something tap the top of his head. It took a few sluggish seconds of confusion to realise that Yamato just smacked him with his own report. He lifted his head up to see Yamato pulling the papers back, looking faintly amused.

 

“My desk is not your bed. If you are tired, go home.”

 

“But I’m too sleepy to move,” Hiro whined, and got another smack on the head for it.

 

“You are not a dog, so don’t make me treat you like one,” Yamato warned, setting Hiro’s sadly abused report down on the desk out of the way.

 

“Woof,” Hiro said petulantly, smiling innocently at how Yamato’s eyes narrowed at him.

 

After a pause, Yamato seemed to decide that it simply wasn’t worth it. He rolled his eyes and picked up his pen once more, resuming his writing without another word.

 

That was fine by him. Hiro propped his chin on his upturned palm, watching Yamato’s gloved hand move over the paper. He had perfect handwriting; each stroke of his pen was neat and precise, his slim fingers manipulating the pen quickly to achieve those lines. He was left-handed, which Hiro never really noticed before.

 

Hiro’s gaze slowly trailed up Yamato’s arm, along the slope of his narrow shoulder, and up to the younger man’s face. Yamato’s gaze was turned downwards, bringing more attention to his long eyelashes. Hiro couldn’t help but study his face. Yamato had a very structured face, to the point where Hiro would tentatively call it _delicate_. His eyes were delicately shaped, his cheeks were high and delicate, his mouth was thin and delicate – everything about it spoke of a feminine fragility.  

 

However, Hiro knew better than to assume Yamato being fragile in any sort of way.

 

“Is there something on my face?”

 

Hiro jumped when silver eyes abruptly caught his gaze, and he slowly felt his face turn an embarrassing shade of red under the weight of Yamato’s intense stare. “U-Uh, no, just…just…” Quick, brain! “Admiring the view.”

 

…Bad brain.

 

Yamato’s face dipped into a frown then, as if puzzled. “The view?”

 

“…yeah,” Hiro said awkwardly. “The view.”

 

They stared at each other for  a long moment then, and Hiro felt stupider with each passing second. He refused to look away, though – well actually, he couldn’t look away. He was frozen in place, hoping that if he stayed still long enough, Yamato would get bored of scrutinising him and go back to his work.

 

The opposite seemed to happen instead. Yamato set down his pen and crossed his arms on his desk, leaning forwards slightly.

 

“…are you even breathing?” Yamato asked with a hint of laughter in his tone.

 

“W-What?”

 

“Your face is turning a rather alarming shade of red.”

 

Hiro grimaced and rubbed his hands over his warm cheeks. “Yeah, yeah…”

 

Yamato looked thoughtful for a few moments. “There is no shame to be had in admiring me, Hiro.”

 

“Well no but- wait, you don’t mind?” Hiro blurted, blinking at Yamato.

 

“I am well aware that one of the requirements for relationships like these is that physical attraction is necessary,” Yamato said slowly, as if speaking to a rather dim-witted child. “I assume that I am of satisfactory attractiveness for you to- what?”

 

Hiro clutched at his ribs, pain throbbing behind them as he tried to suppress his laughter. “Y-Yamato…” he wheezed, finally pressing a hand against his face. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the chief’s hopelessness. “It’s like you went on Wikipedia about this.”

 

“I have read up on the subject of romance, yes.”

 

Did that mean he _did_?? “Yamato, look it’s…um, well, I guess attractiveness does play an important part in it,” Hiro said, finally managing to control himself. He dropped his hand and drummed his fingers on the desk. “But it’s not the only thing.”

 

“No. Emotional bonds are also a requirement.”

 

“…something like that,” Hiro sighed. There was more to it than that, but Hiro was hardly going to go into the very complicated and sticky mess of relationships and their different types. Let Yamato believe in the clear cut basic one. It was amazing how naïve the chief was, though, about normal things like this, yet so sharp and sly in other matters.

 

Something snagged in Hiro’s mind suddenly. “Wait, does that mean you find me physically attractive?”

 

Yamato stared at Hiro as if evaluating the quality of a rather old pot.

 

“I suppose so,” he said dismissively, lifting his shoulders into a slight shrug.

 

“Y-You _suppose_?” Hiro coughed, his pride feeling a bit wounded at that. Yamato had said it so flatly – and the man’s expression spoke of mild boredom. Hiro didn’t expect much, but still, ow! He nursed his bruised ego with a slight pout, telling himself that Yamato was absolutely _clueless_ in these matters so he probably didn’t mean to be insulting, and that at least the guy was attracted to him emotionally. He hoped.

 

“You are of higher than average physical attractiveness,” Yamato said, “however that is my own personal opinion. I know that the perception of physical attractiveness is relative to the individual.”

 

Well, okay, that made Hiro feel a little better. “So, basically, you think I’m handsome.”

 

“Yes,” Yamato said with no trace of hesitation of embarrassment in his tone. 

 

Hiro smiled. Yamato was hopeless… “Well good, because I find you very handsome too.”

 

“I gathered,” Yamato said dryly. “Is that all then? I still have some work to do unlike a certain individual I could name.”

 

“You are just a well of romance and mood making, aren’t you?” Hiro laughed.

 

“Romance and mood making does not make my infinite pile of paperwork shrink any,” Yamato drawled, his lips curving into a little teasing smirk, “And even if it did, I don’t find slack-jawed staring all that romantic.”  

 

Hiro spluttered indignantly, “I wasn’t slack-jawed – and I wasn’t staring! I was _admiring_ you! Don’t make me sound like some- some lecherous pervert!”

 

“Hm,” Yamato adopted a look of mock-thought, tilting his head to the side slightly like some kind of curious puppy. It was cute, but Hiro forced himself not to be distracted by the sight, “Now that I ponder on it, aren’t people who stare so blatantly at others deemed ‘creeps’?”

 

“Yamato!” Hiro whined.  

 

“Your stare was quite intense too…” Yamato continued blithely, although his eyes were bright with wicked humour. “It made me feel almost violated.”

 

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Hiro shot back, his face feeling hot again, “Since you’ve got your own arsenal of creepily intense stares!”

 

Yamato didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “Is that so?”

 

“You _stare_ at people like you’re trying to see through their clothes,” Hiro grumbled.

 

Yamato looked a bit repulsed at that. “Believe me; I do not want to see what people look like beneath their clothing.”

 

“Maybe I should call you the pervert, instead of Makoto,” Hiro said, pushing forwards aggressively to turn the tables on the other male. “And warn all the new recruits that the Chief has X-ray vision-”

 

“Hiro,” Yamato growled.

 

“-and that when he’s looking down at you, it’s because he’s checking out your-”

 

Yamato pushed himself up and forwards with surprising speed, his hand slapping against Hiro’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. It sort of hurt, but Hiro knew that Yamato hadn’t meant to be that forceful with him. He just smiled against the gloved palm, knowing Yamato could feel it, and looked up innocently at the dangerous looking chief frowning down at him.

 

“You can be such an incorrigible child,” Yamato muttered, moving his hand away to rest it on the desk, balancing his weight easier.

 

Hiro rubbed at his mouth, grinning wickedly. “Nope. I’m intractable.”

 

Yamato’s expression went flat. “That’s basically the same thing, Hiro,” he sighed, pressing a hand against his forehead as if fending off a migraine, starting to pull back.

 

Hiro reached out and quickly snagged Yamato’s overly long tie, holding him in place. Yamato stilled, his eyes trained on the hand clasping onto his tie before slowly looking up at Hiro and his mischievous expression. “No.”

 

Hiro feigned an innocent look.

 

“ _No_ , Hi-”

 

Hiro pulled.

 

Yamato went sprawling on his desk, knocking off a few sheaves of paper from the disturbed piles. Hiro’s plan had been to hurriedly let go of the younger man’s tie and beat a hasty retreat while Yamato was spitting out curses, but alas, Hiro had underestimated the speed of an angry Yamato. Before he could even start an inch away from the furious chief a slim yet _strong_ hand latched onto his wrist and hauled him forwards, making the edge of the desk dig uncomfortably into his stomach.

 

“ _Hiro_ ,” Yamato hissed, shoving himself upwards with one hand while holding onto Hiro’s wrist with the other, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I am going to kill you.”

 

Hiro didn’t doubt him for a minute. In that moment, he really thought Yamato was really going to kill him. Hiro’s mind floundered in a wild panic. He couldn’t free himself from Yamato’s _painful_ grip to run away, and if he stayed still the younger man would – okay maybe not kill him, but do something very very unpleasant so- so that meant the only option was to go forwards!

 

Hiro wasn’t sure who was more surprised; him or the chief, when he practically jumped onto the desk and rammed into Yamato.  

 

The desk was in ruins by the time their positions settled, papers thrown haphazardly onto the floor, along with a few pens and other assortments. Hiro blinked dazedly, feeling strangely woozy from the brief wrestling match atop of Yamato’s desk – that sounded so wrong to his ears. He shook his head and pushed himself up on his elbows, blinking at Yamato scowling up at him from where he was sprawled underneath him.

 

…déjà vu.

 

“Why hello there,” Hiro said innocently, and was rewarded with Yamato smacking his hand against his forehead.

 

“Why is it that every time you are in my office, you manage to _destroy_ my desk?” Yamato snarled, curling his fingers into Hiro’s hair and giving it a few, bad-tempered tugs. Hiro endured it because, well he did start it, although it was getting difficult to endure when Yamato’s grip tightened with each word he snapped out; “You are such an ill-behaved, intractable, moronic, _infuriating-_ ”

 

“Yamato, okay, that’s starting to hurt now,” Hiro said tightly, wincing when Yamato’s fingers clenched harder in his hair.

 

“As it should! Maybe it would help you to think on the consequences of your actions!” Yamato yanked Hiro’s head down until they were practically nose to nose, his silver eyes narrowed into narrow slits. “I am furious with you right now.”

 

Yeah, Hiro knew. He was feeling that fury pretty keenly right now – or rather, his scalp was. “I gathered,” Hiro grumbled, lifting a hand up to settle it over Yamato’s, trying to gently coax it from ripping out his hair. “But, you know, it’s kind of your fault.”

 

Yamato snorted. “How is it my fault?”

 

“You know, an attack can happen anytime, anywhere, you really left yourself open,” Hiro grinned, managing to make Yamato loosen his grip enough to be bearable. He dropped his hand, resting it on the desk beside Yamato’s body, meeting those angry eyes without flinching. “You’re just a sore loser.”

 

For a moment Yamato looked like he was half-tempted to bite Hiro, or headbutt him at the very least, but after a moment the anger seemed to drain out of his expression, leaving him looking pensive. “…I have dropped my guard around you,” he admitted softly.

 

“…yeah,” Hiro said slowly, sensing the sudden shift in mood. He smiled gently. “It’s not a bad thing, you know.”

 

Yamato gave him a flat look.

 

“…okay it’s not _meant_ to be a bad thing. I’ll lay off the ambushes, I swear,” Hiro chuckled sheepishly, absently combing his fingers through Yamato’s soft hair. He felt the gloved fingers in his own hair relax and slid down to rest on the nape of his neck. “It just means you’re beginning to trust me.”

 

“Trusting you is bad for my sanity,” Yamato said grumpily, but Hiro knew he didn’t mean it, “And my desk.”

 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t really think my ‘baiting the bear’ plan through.”

 

Yamato was quiet, and Hiro took the lull to happily watch the younger man’s face. It really was déjà vu, except this time Yamato’s cheeks weren’t as flushed, he wasn’t as startled or wide-eyed with shock. Hiro smiled wryly. That memory of them falling onto Yamato’s desk after a failed waltz lesson was one that was forever burned into his mind, if only because of the, uh, niceness of it. Hiro found he liked the sight of Yamato underneath him, flushed and dazed looking, his chest heaving for breath…

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

Hiro snapped out of his daydream, blinking rapidly. “Oh. Er, just, remembering the last time we were like this.”

 

“You pinning me down to my desk?” Yamato asked.

 

“Yeah,” Hiro said sheepishly. His fingers paused in Yamato’s hair, moving to press his palm against a pale cheek, his thumb brushing over the corner of the younger man’s mouth. “Specifically, uh…”

 

Yamato didn’t say anything. It was different this time, Hiro realised. Last time Yamato had looked a little scared, a little frightened by what had been happening – this time he was calm and collected, patiently waiting for Hiro to finish his words. He was a bit curious, but not put off, by the transformation. Hiro pressed his thumb against Yamato’s bottom lip, leaning in a little closer until all he could see was the dark grey of Yamato’s eyes.

 

“The, uh…” Hiro mumbled, unsure on how to proceed, his thumb moving back to the corner of Yamato’s mouth. “You know-”

 

“You are unbelievably slow, Hiro, so excuse me for hurrying this along,” Yamato interrupted suddenly, his grip around the back of Hiro’s neck tightening.

 

“Wha-”

 

Yamato pulled Hiro down those few inches, their lips connecting forcefully in a hard kiss. Hiro mentally flailed for a few moments, but then oh – his brain churned out thoughts in a confused jumble, of things like, oh yamato’s fingers in my hair those lips oh that felt nice taste copper this kiss hurts is good fuck damn fuck god – until Hiro’s lungs were burning and his lips ached and throbbed and he _loved_ it. The kiss was harsh and inexperienced, horribly so on both sides. There was nothing gentle, nothing slow or careful or anything – it was a crush of wild abandon; of an aggressive passion that was more like _Yamato_ than anything else. A raging, howling tempest of this this _this_.

 

“-fuck-” Hiro hiccupped when they finally broke for air, his eyes wide with shock as he gasped frantically. Yamato didn’t look any better. His lips were bruised and swollen, a smudge of red – blood? – on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded and more tempting than any exotic dancer could be.

 

Hiro swallowed when Yamato’s tongue slowly ran over his lips, just missing the smudge of blood.

 

  1. “That was interesting,” Yamato murmured huskily.   



 

“Interesting,” Hiro repeated dazedly. “I, oh my god,” he said, rubbing at his aching mouth. That kiss…it had been so horrible yet so good at the same time. He couldn’t really describe it – mostly because his brain was stuck on ‘oh my god’.

 

Yamato let out a wordless noise in the back of his throat, something that sounded so primal and satiated that Hiro felt something hot prickle up from the base of his spine in hearing it.

 

“Oh my god,” Hiro repeated.

 

“You said that already,” Yamato noted in amusement, his eyebrows rising slightly. Hiro felt envious of how calm and collected he was- and he wondered like- _how_.

 

“How’re…you looked scared last time I almost kissed you,” Hiro grumbled, feeling a bit put out. Yamato laughed in response, a low, dark noise that made Hiro reflexively swallow.

 

“…it is as you said before, it shows I am beginning to trust you,” Yamato finally answered. “I know what this is, now, in a sense.”

 

“You know? I don’t fucking know,” Hiro muttered grumpily.

 

“Well, perhaps it’s arrogant of me to say that, so let me correct myself. I trust that this won’t be unpleasant.”

 

Hiro was briefly stunned, understanding the magnitude of Yamato’s words, understanding that Yamato was blindly entering into unknown territory, but trusting Hiro to go there with his guard lowered and hands void of a weapon. It was a heavy burden, because Hiro knew there were so many traps and snarls in a path like this that one could trip over, but by God he was going to make sure that every time they staggered, they were damn well going to get back up again.

 

“It won’t be,” Hiro promised, leaning down to press a very light kiss against Yamato’s bruised mouth. A soft noise escaped Yamato, but it was too quiet to know what it was from. He pulled back with a small grin. “You look like I’ve punched you in the mouth.”

 

“It _feels_ like you have punched me in the mouth. You bit me, by the way.”

 

“Did I? Sorry. You were practically eating me alive in that kiss though, you know.”

 

Yamato scoffed lightly, and he pressed his hand against Hiro’s chest, pushing him away. Hiro obediently pulled back to allow the chief to prop himself up on his elbows. “So were you, if I remember correctly.”

 

“You were yummy,” Hiro purred, laughing when Yamato swatted at him. He slid off of Yamato and the desk, bending down to pick up a few sheaves of paper off the floor. “Maybe next time you should ravish me against the wall, or the door, or something.”

 

“Mm,” Yamato hummed, and Hiro heard the thud of boots hitting the floor. Hiro watched Yamato from the corner of his eye, observing the younger male crouch down to carefully pick up a few rumpled pieces of paperwork. Normally something like that was enough to send Yamato in a foul mood, but instead he was smiling.

 

Hiro smiled too, filled with a sudden, jittery type of energy.

 

It wasn’t long before they collected all the paperwork and dumped them back on the desk. In that time, Yamato’s mouth really did look bruised, all the starker against his pale skin. As guilty as Hiro felt over it, he couldn’t help but find it aesthetically pleasing, in a sense. The corners of his mouth were a blossom of black and dark purples. It was actually very pretty.

 

That or Hiro had a fucked up kink of bruising people.

 

Yamato rubbed his mouth gingerly with his fingertips, his brow furrowed slightly. “It feels a bit sore.”

 

“Yeah, uh, you might want to throw a Dia on that,” Hiro said guiltily, squirming in place as Yamato observed him curiously.

 

“Perhaps later,” Yamato said, and he abruptly started shooing Hiro away. “Go away now. I’m already behind on my work enough after your acts of vandalism.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hiro shuffled away as Yamato reclaimed his desk’s seat, but paused at the door. He turned suddenly, smiling at the chief who was regarding him with open curiosity.

 

“Goodnight,” Hiro said, his smile turning into a mischievous grin. A second later he lifted his hand – and blew the younger man an overly dramatic kiss.

 

Yamato just sat there with a look of utter boredom.

 

“…go home, Hiro.”

 

“Pfft. Not a romantic bone in your body,” Hiro complained, but he tugged open the door and exited the office. As soon as the door closed behind him, he grinned happily and practically skipped down the hallway, feeling unbelievably restless. His mouth was hurting, and so was his scalp from where Yamato almost ripped his hair out, but at that moment, he felt absolutely fantastic, like he was walking on air.

 

“Amazing,” Hiro murmured to himself, rubbing his hand over his mouth – completely unaware that it was just as bruised as Yamato’s. 


	12. Eleventh Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro could stomach many things. This tests those limits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: GORE. GORE. GORE.

“What’s a symbiosis?”

 

Fumi sighed, her hands stilling on the keyboard of her laptop. Hiro watched her from the corner of his eye, trying to find down a smile as the older woman gave him a baleful stare of mild annoyance. He really shouldn’t be prodding Fumi like this, since she was already in a foul mood due to their surroundings, but Yamato had told him a very terrifying voice that he should read the report thoroughly and understand everything before setting foot in the mansion.

 

Far be it from Hiro to go against Yamato when he used  _that_  voice.

 

“…a symbiosis is a close and long-term interaction between different biological species,” Fumi explained, her gaze returning to the screen of her laptop, tapping away once more at the keys. “Of course, scientists argue over what is true symbiosis all the time, since you have different types of symbiosis, like parasitic, or mutualistic. I guess a good example would be the parasites that live in your guts.”

 

Hiro wrinkled his nose. “I don’t have worms.”

 

“Everyone has parasites in them. It’s normal. Now is that all? I have to finish this up without you annoying me with your lack of knowledge.”

 

Hiro returned to the report. The back of the JP’s truck was filled with typing once more. This mission was apparently a Very Big One that required several scores of JP’s members from all ranks coming to one abandoned mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo. From what Hiro understood, there had been disappearances happening in this area for a while, and it was just recently that they finally figured out what it was.

 

A human.

 

Normally a human serial killer was the police’s issue, but something was different about this human. One of the survivor’s testimonies – as hysteric as it was – claimed that the man had transformed into some hideous monster and ate her boyfriend. It was…a disturbing mental image.

 

The report stated that they presumed it to be a symbiosis. Demonic Possession normally distorted the human’s body if it could withstand it. If the demon possessed the body against its will, then the human would be fighting too hard for it to synchronise enough to shift its body into whatever shape it wanted. That meant the human  _wanted_  to be possessed, especially if it could shift forms at will. Hiro couldn’t understand why one would want to be possessed by a demon, but he couldn’t understand why people would kill each other, so he assumed that it was some psycho murder logic he couldn’t understand anyway.

 

“Alright, I’m done.”

 

“Good,” Fumi looked up from her laptop. “Tell the Chief that Camera 3b’s gone. Looks like he knows we’re here.”

 

Hiro grimaced. That was great. “Alright, I will.”

 

The truck was parked in the large clearing before the tall steps leading up to the mansion. The air was crisp and sharp, almost painful to inhale with a layer of frozen dew covering the sparse grass. The morning sun was just beginning to crest the treeline, so the light drifting down was weak and dim.

 

It made the mansion look extremely creepy.

 

Hiro walked up the steps, pausing at the entrance. Two JP’s members were standing there, acting as guards. They were rookies, Hiro could tell at a glance, and they stiffened up in a salute as he approached. Hiro just smiled and shook his head, striding past them and into the mansion itself.

 

It was like he stepped into an entirely different world, the interior drab and musty, utterly still and isolated from the rest of the world. The entrance hall was wide, the floor squelching from rotten tatami mats, and the wall beyond was half torn down, the sliding doors torn off and left shattered on the floor.

 

Hiro moved in deeper.

 

He met several JP’s members along the way, each busy doing their own task; such as searching every inch of the building for traps, for angry spirits, for curses, and checking up on the cameras. This was a very big operation, and Hiro felt more somber with each step inside the building. There were clear signs of struggle, here and there, and even blood splatters sprayed haphazardly all over the walls, the ceiling, the floor – on everything. There was even a smear like someone had dragged a blood carcass down the hallway.

 

It was that smear that Hiro followed, trying to ignore the unsettled feeling in his gut. The trail led to a cellar, the door long since smashed to kindling, and stepped down the slimy, stone steps. Thankfully the cellar was lit up with portable floodlights, every corner bright and unshadowed. It was in the centre of this room, near an open hole, that Hiro found Yamato.

 

“Hey. Fumi says camera 3b is gone.”

 

Yamato just hummed vaguely, staring down the deep pit. Hiro could see flashes of light down there, so he supposed that Yamato had sent down some hapless subordinates to be the canary.

 

“Are you staying here?” Hiro asked. He knew his mission was to hunt down the human-demon hybrid and put it down (and the thought made him queasy, because demon possessed or not, he was still human underneath all of that, no matter how disgusting of one he was), but he wasn’t sure what Yamato’s role was. Overseer?

 

“I am leading the extermination mission,” Yamato said slowly. “This demon is of a high level, and sending you by yourself would be suicide. Sako, you, Yanagiya and I will be the main party with two groups of back up.”

 

“Otome’s coming?” Hiro thought Otome was a non-combatant except in special circumstances.

 

“She is the best healer in JP’s, and we will need the best of healer among us in the field,” Yamato said. “She will not be intended for direct fighting, but for support and first aid out in the field.”

 

“I see,” Hiro murmured. They stood in silence, the only noise being the echoing voices in the pit below.

 

“Will you be alright, down there? You’re not too good with small spaces.”

 

“The pit opens up into a maze of wide tunnels,” Yamato said, his tone cooling considerably. Hiro just rolled his eyes in response. Yamato was so touchy about his claustrophobia it was ridiculous.

 

“I was just checking. Why are you coming along, anyway? It’d be bad if the leader got eaten by a cannibal.”

 

“You expect me to die?” Yamato asked in surprise. He laughed. “Hiro, I am the most powerful Demon Tamer in JP’s. Besides, every resource is necessary in this mission. If I die, at the very least I will try to complete my mission in the process.”

 

“You won’t die,” Hiro muttered, finding his stomach knotting uncomfortably at the thought. Shouts sounded down in the pit, and both of them tensed in anticipation – but it was just one of the subordinates clinging up the makeshift ladder, covered in a thin layer of dust.

 

“Sir, we think we’ve found the trail!”

 

“Perfect,” Yamato smirked. “Then establish a safe perimeter around the entrance here.”

 

“Sir!”

 

Yamato led Hiro away to the stairs, lightly pushing the brunet up them. “Go and collect Yanagiya and Sako. They should be on the second floor.”

 

Hiro nodded and climbed up the stairs as quickly as the slippery surface would allow him. A nervous energy blossomed in him, and he could not shake the feeling of dread clinging to his bones. A premonition or just nerves? He hoped it was nerves.

 

He really did.

 

**XXX**

 

The air was like a tomb’s, stale, still and filled with rot, cloudy even with the powerful torchlight leading the way. Every step echoed in the narrow tunnel, and the floor was slimy with moisture and moss. Yamato hoped it was moisture. The light reflected off of it too brightly to discern its proper colour.

 

They had been walking these tunnels for two hours now, and communications had informed then ten minutes ago that camera 4b had just been lost. He had no idea why the demon was destroying them, since it gave away its position either way, and supposed that it was either a bit thick, or that it was baiting them. He hoped it was stupid. Smart demons were notoriously tricky to defeat.

 

“I hate this tunnel,” Yamato heard Hiro complain to no one in particular. “It smells funny.”

 

“It’s possibly mould spores,” Otome spoke up lightly. “I’ll give us a thorough check up when we get out to make sure it doesn’t have an adverse effect on us.”

 

“Mould can do that?”

 

“Oh, there’re nasty types of mould out there.”

 

“Shush, you two,” Makoto said softly. “We need to be quiet.”

 

Yamato stopped suddenly. Hiro’s whispering died off immediately, and he felt him move close to hover near his shoulder. “What is it?”

 

“Look.”

 

The light of the torch showed that the tunnel opened up into a wide room with stone walls and a stone floor. Considering the tunnel had been a rather simple affair of dirt and wooden buttresses, the sudden change was startling enough. However…

 

“That is,” Hiro’s voice was twisted with raw disgust. “This is sick.”

 

Flies buzzed loudly over the carcasses strewn haphazardly in the room. Some of them were bloated, the torsos split open to reveal rotting insides, almost black from the mass of flies; others were simply dismembered limbs half gnawed on, the flesh stripped right down to the bone, with stringy muscle and sinew gleaming in the torchlight. The stone floor was slimy, slick with the rotting juices of the abandoned corpses, an awful mix of brownish red.  

 

The smell was almost like a physical blow. Yamato had smelled the rot for quite some time, but looking at this scene seemed to make it quadruple in intensity. He could hear Hiro make a few choked noises behind him.

 

“If you are going to vomit, make it quick,” Yamato told him, looking over his shoulder to see Hiro’s pale face.

 

“…no. I’m fine,” the brunet said faintly. He didn’t look fine, but Yamato didn’t push the issue, and stepped into the horrifying room. The flies swarmed upwards at the disturbance, but Yamato ignored it as he carefully picked his way through the room to the half opened door on the other side. He could hear the others follow after him, the mood sombre and heavy.  

 

The next room didn’t stink any less, but it was void of carcasses at least, even if the stone walls and floor was smeared with dried trails of blood. Yamato skimmed the torchlight through the room, frowning at the size of it. It was a massive hall, and not even the powerful torch could pierce the darkness looming in the distance.

 

“Sir,” Makoto’s soft voice broke the stillness. “Shall Hiro and I walk the walls?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Hiro and Makoto split off with their own torches, sticking to the perimeter of the room, and Yamato strode forwards towards the centre, leaving Otome beside the door. The rest of the tunnels had been combed through, so the demon lay only forwards – Otome was safe by herself there.

 

The room’s size was so large that Hiro and Makoto were only visible as beams of light, far on either side of Yamato. He tried to keep them in his periphereal while focusing on the space before him as well, every nerve in his body tense and singing with anticipation. He stilled when he heard something – like something wet slapping the ground – and instantly plunged his hand into his coat pocket to grasp his phone.

 

The room filled with a crackle of energy, and Remiel and Pallas Athena came to being on either side of him. Shapes moved in the darkness near Hiro and Makoto’s torchlight, and he relaxed a fraction. There was a tense pause, both Yamato and his demons stiff as sounds continued in the darkness before him, shifting and scraping against the floor like it was some great, hulking beast. It probably was.

 

The sounds stopped and-

 

All hell broke loose.

 

Yamato threw himself to the side just as some great shape rammed into Pallas Athena. Remiel moved forwards, his wings spread wide, and past the feathers Yamato could see some beast – all long limbed and terrible with ribs jutting out of its torso like spikes – tear its claws through the female demon’s arm. Pallas Athena made no noise as her limb was literally ripped away from her body, the warrior demon staggering back a step as the long-limbed monster brought the severed arm up to its blunt maw and proceeded to shear the flesh off from the bone, the squelching noise of tearing muscle so disturbing to Yamato’s ears that he felt sick from hearing it.  

 

Light flashed in the darkness, Yamato could see Hiro running towards him – Makoto at his back, and the long-limbed demon was moving again, this time deeming Remiel as the threat. Yamato moved to the side as the Angelic demon was tackled, screeches and shrieks filling the air, and Yamato tapped furiously at his phone – lights flashed again, and the long-limbed demon was gone, leaving Remiel’s wings shredded but still alive and-

 

Hiro was at his back, pushing him down, and the air displaced violently just where their heads had been, the sound of something heavy colliding with the stone wall snapping out. Yamato kept up with the dizzying chaos, pushing Hiro away from him just as fire spat out along the floor, the flames licking close enough that the heat was almost painful. Someone shouted – feminine, so Makoto or Otome, and his phone beeped, signalling that Pallas Athena had died, dammit, so.

 

Garuda burst to life, a flash of rainbow feathers glinting in the lights bursting before a dying shriek tore the air, and in the crimson light of flames Yamato saw the long-limbed demon only five feet away from him, fangs red and yellow eyes rolling madly in their sockets. It looked vaguely human, he thought distantly, his thumb moving unconsciously against the buttons of his phone as the demon’s body twisted strangely, muscles flexing in ways that should be painful and limbs bending impossibly as it surged towards him.

 

Bright light – Holy Dance rammed into the beast, throwing it backwards in a series of pained squeals – and it was gone again, the lights dimming and scrapes of claws clattering against the stone floor – Remiel returned to him, wings restored but red gaping wounds opened at his chest, and Garuda shrieked somewhere in the distance, Yamato’s foot connected with the torch on the floor, sending the light spinning wildly and-

 

Remiel was down, Yamato sidestepping as claws swiped inches from his face and Hiro was beside him again, fire exploding in a rush of power. They were almost thrown backwards from the force, and he and Hiro ran to the side, Makoto leaping with over the torn corpse of – Yamato could only identify it as a Snake demon – and Hiro was gone, the roars filling the hall as something heavy slammed into the ground near him.

 

Holy Dance, bright and shrieking cracked the stone floors, and Yamato wondered how on earth the beast could move so quickly – he could barely keep up, barely staying ahead of its claws and rapid pace. It was practically everywhere and anywhere, tearing down their demons and narrowly avoiding ripping off their heads with each sharp breath.

 

A flash of white as Otome ran past, and Yamato felt flames sear his back, a Murmur’s sharp claws latching onto the long-limbed demons back and ripping- but the Murmur’s head was torn off with the sound of paper ripping, Yamato sent off Holy Dance, almost blinded from the close proximity and-

 

Through the smoke and the gloom the long-limbed demon burst forth, and Yamato could not move as the terrible monster bore done on him, its blunted face a mass of pulsating red flesh and mad yellow eyes and-

 

_Redpainpressurebloodred_

 

Screams howled out and Yamato felt something alien dig into his stomach, clawing at his insides and rip out and- something was digging into his shoulder, the crunch of the bones the pop as blood vessels burst under pressure and all Yamato could see was red and white spots exploding and-

 

Pain again. Screeches howls screams and some low keening noise that filled Yamato’s ears. His body was disconnected, and he couldn’t move his arm and someone was touching him and frantically HIro’s voice was-

 

Close far, Yamato opened his eyes and could only see the red and flashes of random light and Hiro’s face was pale and close and chaos was exploding all around them and Yamato realised then that the low keening noise was coming from him because it hurt it hurt everything  _hurthurthurt_ -

 

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay, Yamato,” Hiro sobbed, and Yamato felt his fingers press into his stomach, shifting and alien and pushing stuff  _in_  painful pain red spots everything swirled downwards before sharpening into focus and he felt Hiro’s hands pressing against his shoulder, burning red hot, and Otome was leaning over him, her face just as pale and lit up the green glow of healing magic.

 

“Stay with us, sir,” Otome said and everything was strange and too bright, her mouth moving out of sync with her words and Makoto was shouting somewhere, screeches and howls ringing in his ears and Hiro looked scared and sick –

 

Something heavy cracked into the ground near them, and Hiro half twisted away from him – fire of Inferno roaring out, and the world was feeling a little clearer, little sharper, and the pain was sharper too, throbbing inside his stomach and at his shoulder and-

 

Otome’s hands were inside him he realised, moving and shifting in his insides and his leg spasmed and Hiro’s hand was in his hair, slick with blood and – “Shh, shh, Yamato, c’mon. Just- hold on for a few more minutes.”

 

“What-” Yamato rasped out, the words bubbling like liquid in his throat – and it  _was_  liquid, he realised, thick and heavy on his tongue, and Otome’s hands were cold, he realised, cold inside of him, and invasive and he wanted them  _out_.

 

“How is it?” Hiro’s voice wobbled, his eyes reflecting the glow of magic as something screamed in the dark room.

 

“It’s…okay,” Otome said and her hands were out of him, lifted up and completely soaked with red, but she was out of him. “All his insides are back in, at least.”

 

Yamato could only see flashes of lights now, everything numbing and muffling. “Morphine shot-” he heard distantly, and the screams were far away and, hands not Hiro’s pressed against his neck, fingers dipping into wounded flesh and glow of healing green soothing far, far…

 

“Yamato? C’mon, stay with us, stay with us,” Hiro’s voice was strained. Someone was holding his hand, wet and hot, squeezing tightly. “Hey, look at me, we have to join the fight, Makoto can’t fight that thing by herself, okay? Yamato…”

 

Yamato opened his eyes even though he just wanted to close them and sleep, and past the gloom of green Hiro was smiling down at him, tightly. “Just stay here, okay? I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

And Hiro was gone, followed by a burst of scarlet that lit up his world before sucking down into a darkness he could not fight against.

 

**XXX**

 

Hiro felt dazed as he stood in the clearing before the mansion, the sun now directly overheard. It was noon, but the temperature hadn’t increased any, still sharp and painful to inhale. He was standing by the bushes, pouring a bottle of water over his hands. They were caked with blood, and some of it was underneath his fingernails that no matter how hard he picked at, it wouldn’t come out.

 

Makoto was beside him, her face pale as she leaned against a tree, her hand pressed against her ribs. She had broken them, and although magic had healed the worst of the injuries, the pain and inflammation remained.

 

“That was not a good fight,” Makoto murmured after a moment of silence.

 

“No,” Hiro agreed shortly. “It wasn’t.”

 

JP’s subordinates were milling about frantically, and Fumi was bad-temperedly ordering them about in lieu of Yamato. Hiro’s stomach twisted at the thought of him – he was fine. He was, barely, but the image of him lying so pale on that floor, those animal like noises of pain escaping him with his gut-

 

Hiro barely held himself back from vomiting.

 

“The chief will be fine,” Makoto said after a pause. “He is strong, and, Otome is-”

 

“I know,” Hiro interrupted, because he didn’t want to talk about Yamato right now. He couldn’t think of him without remembering the horribleness of it, and how Yamato had been so pale, so lifeless, almost half dead…

 

Makoto moved the topic in another direction.

 

“We should return to headquarters. The others will clean up the scene.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Death wasn’t uncommon in JP’s. Humans who meddled in demons were normally found dead by the time JP’s got there to sort it out, and JP’s subordinates themselves were killed in violent ways, but Hiro had never even considered Yamato being one of those. He joked about him getting eaten, but to see that- that monster with its jaws clamped tight around Yamato’s shoulder and tear a chunk right out of him and blood spurted out and the gleam of white bone-

 

Hiro doubted he could even joke about that anymore. Or eat meat ever again.

 

They walked away from the group, and once they were out of sight from the others, Hiro stepped off the path to empty his stomach contents into the bushes.

 

Makoto didn’t say a word about it, only gave him a handkerchief when he stumbled back, pale and glassy-eyed. Hiro doubted he could ever tell Makoto how grateful he was to her at that moment. He didn’t feel like he could speak ever again.

 

“He will be fine,” Makoto said softly, and Hiro’s stomach churned even though it was now empty.

 

“Yes. He will,” Hiro whispered.

 

He still couldn’t unsee, though, that monster tearing Yamato apart.


	13. Twelfth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato’s alive so life goes on as normal.

“It seems like some cultists are going around killing livestock,” Hiro said, flipping through the report in his hands. He shifted on the stool he was sitting on, finding the seat uncomfortable no matter how he sat on it, and eventually gave up with a quiet sigh. “So, um, I sent off those two guys- the one’s from Osaka – since they’re nearer to the location, to inquire about it. If it’s just them killing animals, then we’ll leave it to the police to sort out, but if they’re actually managing to use them for summonings, then, they said they’d report back to us.”

 

“Good,” Yamato said, offering up a small smile. “It seems you and Sako are doing well in my stead.”

 

“Well we’re not doing it for much longer,” Hiro said grumpily, lowering the report onto his lap and rubbing his forehead. “I have no idea how you do this by yourself. With me and Makoto we only got through a quarter of what you do by yourself. I swear you’re cheating somehow.”

 

“I assure you, I am not,” Yamato said before hissing quietly in pain.

 

“Sorry, sir,” Otome said, moving her hands away from the younger male’s shoulder. Her gloved fingers were slightly smeared with blood, and in her hands were a pair of surgical scissors and tweezers. She was plucking the stitches free from Yamato’s shoulder injury, the wounds having closed enough for them to no longer be necessary.

 

Hiro examined Yamato’s shoulder from the corner of his eye, pretending to be looking over the report. It took over ten days for Yamato to be healed to this extent. Magic was miraculous in how it healed people, but Yamato had been missing a massive  _chunk_  of flesh and bone from his shoulder. If he had been submitted to a civilian hospital, there was no doubt that they would’ve amputated his arm since he would’ve never been able to use it again. As it was, they managed to carefully regenerate the lost muscle and bone after days of hard work.

 

And that wasn’t getting into Yamato’s stomach injury.

 

 “…right, so yeah, the cultists are being dealt with,” HIro continued after a pause, tearing his gaze away from Yamato’s shoulder. “I know it’s a bit too early in the year to start it, but I sent out a national wide seal maintenance check anyway. We’ve got a break in terms of missions right now, so might as well do it now when we’re free enough to, right?”

 

“That sounds fine,” Yamato said, twitching when Otome tugged out another long piece of black thread from his shoulder.

 

“…will it stay scarred like that?” Hiro finally asked, abandoning his report for now to nod at Yamato’s shoulder. There were jagged lines of red that lightened into thick, pinkish scars that spread out from Yamato’s shoulder, over his clavicle, and down a few inches of his chest. Hiro suspected it was scarred on the back too.

 

“Unfortunately,” Otome sighed. “I don’t know  _what_  was in that demon’s mouth, but it was nasty.”

 

“Some form of anti-coagulant and magic hamper,” Yamato said flippantly. “A few demons have poisonous bites like that.”

 

“Mm, looks painful,” Hiro said slowly. Not that he… _cared_  if Yamato had a twisted mass of disfiguring scars on his shoulder. Hiro wasn’t shallow like that, but the pink scars did look painful and tender. “Can you move that shoulder at all?”

 

“He shouldn’t move it unless I tell him too,” Otome said cheerfully, speaking before Yamato could even open his mouth. “You need physiotherapy for this. We had to regenerate a lot of lost muscle and bone, so you need to gently train it back up, otherwise you’ll probably tear something and make it useless.”

 

“I do not have the time to perform physiotherapy,” Yamato sighed.

 

“Well you’ll have to make time, won’t you?” Otome said, her tone sweet, “If you don’t, you can ruin that arm forever, and all of that time and effort would’ve been wasted.”

 

“I can take your shifts when you do physio, Yamato,” Hiro offered. “I don’t mind.”

 

“I thought you hated doing my paperwork?” Yamato shot at Hiro, looking a bit sulky at being bullied into this.

 

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’d do it at the cost of your arm,” HIro said slowly. “Go do your physio. Stop being a baby.”

 

“I am not being a baby,” Yamato muttered.

 

“Done,” Otome said. She set down her tools and peeled off her gloves, dumping the soiled latex into the nearby medical waste bin. She promptly pulled on a fresh pair, and picked up another set of scissors and tweezers – sterile and clean. “Now for your stomach.”

 

Yamato straightened up as Otome trailed her fingers over the stitches. His stomach wound had been the most troublesome. When he had been disembowelled, some parts of his internal organs had been damaged in the process. So he had an uncomfortable period of time where his stomach had remained opened to have the internal organs healed, and then had the wound closed. Yamato liked to lock that horrible memory into the farthest corner of his mind.

 

The wound had closed into a very angry looking scar that began just above his left hip, trailed upwards in an uneven line above his navel, and stopped just under the right side of his ribcage. The poison from the demon’s mouth had infected that wound too, so stitches had been necessary to keep it closed while forcing magic through to speed up the rate of recovery.

 

Hiro liked to avoid looking at that particular injury, he noticed, but Yamato supposed that witnessing a disembowelling was just as traumatising as experiencing it. Yamato didn’t even remember it, to be honest. He just remembered that it hurt a lot, and the awful, invasive feel of hands inside of him.

 

“Well there’s your perfectly flat stomach gone,” Hiro joked tightly, staring down at the papers in his hands. “Guess you’ll have to give up that modelling career.”

 

“A pity,” Yamato quipped.

 

“Well the only one who will be seeing it is you anyway, Hiro,” Otome said slyly, not pausing her thread snipping for a moment, “I hope you find scars sexy.”

 

“Otome,” Hiro huffed, the tips of his ears turning red. Yamato had discovered recently that Otome had learned of their…relationship somehow, although the woman didn’t do anything about it except her usual brand of teasing. It was irritating, but Yamato could easily ignore it.

 

“Does it disgust you?” Yamato asked, mostly because he was genuinely curious. He didn’t honestly care if the scars left him disfigured, especially if he could hide them under his clothing anyway – however Hiro usually found a way to remark on Yamato’s handsomeness in some way or other, so perhaps it would be off putting for him.

 

“What? No,” Hiro blinked, looking a bit surprised at the question. He smiled gently, shaking his head. “It doesn’t. It just- looks like it’s painful.”

 

“Not that painful. At worst it’s a bit tender.”

 

“You two are adorable,” Otome sighed, straightening up. All the stitches were removed from Yamato’s shoulder and stomach now. “Really. You know, scars can be sensitive.”

 

“Can they?” Hiro asked, frowning a little. “Like, painful sensitive?”

 

“Mm, it depends on the stimulus,” Otome leered, and there was a slow second where Hiro didn’t get it. He flushed and looked down at his report.

 

“I should be calling you the pervert here…”

 

“I feel like I have missed something,” Yamato remarked.

 

“It’s nothing,” Hiro said quickly. “So he’s done then?”

 

“Not yet, just gotta dab some Iodine on,” Otome said, peeling off the soiled gloves and putting on a clean pair.

 

Yamato wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of antiseptic, but ignored it as Otome began to rub the solution onto his tender scars. “Hiro, how much paperwork was left when you left my office?”

 

“Hm, uh, I think we left like, about half your desk covered,” Hiro answered.

 

“I’d prefer it if you went home to rest, sir,” Otome interrupted. “Just go home and have a nice, long nap.”

 

“I have been sleeping for a long while already,” Yamato said, his face darkening into a scowl.

 

“And you should sleep even longer! You were disembowelled, sir, and my orders are for you to go home and take today and tomorrow off. Go have fun with Hiro. He’s been dying to have some alone time with you, with how he’s been camping in my office.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been living off yummy things like surgical tape and disposable gloves,” Hiro snorted. “I haven’t been camping. I just came here to visit Yamato so he didn’t go insane and strangle you.”

 

“You’re both so cute,” Otome sighed, pulling her hands away from Yamato’s body. “Okay, it’s done. Just…wait to dry off a little and then stick your shirt back on, sir. And don’t move that arm more than you have to, otherwise I’ll force you to wear a sling.”

 

“I’ll need to move my shoulder to put my shirt on, Yanagiya.”

 

“You’re right,” Otome picked up the used surgical instruments, looking at Hiro from over her shoulder, “Hiro, be a good boyfriend and dress him while I take care of this.”

 

“Yes, master,” Hiro muttered, standing up and setting down his papers on the uncomfortable stool as Otome left the room.

 

Yamato decided that he should be crowned a saint with how he was enduring this ridiculousness. He rose up from his own seat, and gave Hiro a sulky look at the brunet approached him with his shirt. Hiro grinned in amusement, and stepped close to him to gently help Yamato into the piece of clothing without jostling his shoulder.

 

“I can manage the buttons,” Yamato growled when Hiro started to do up his shirt for him, but the brunet just rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m already here. I might as well do it,” Hiro chided softly, his fingers slowly doing up the buttons. Once he reached the top, Hiro smirked as he upturned Yamato’s collar. “I’ll do your tie too.”

 

“Ugh…”

 

Hiro hummed softly as he carefully wrapped the tie around the upturned fabric, leaving the tie undone as he took a moment to fold over and smooth down the younger man’s collar. Hiro could feel the weight of Yamato’s gaze on him, but he just smiled to himself as he slowly did up the tie.

 

“I can never do these things on someone else,” Hiro said thoughtfully. “I think I’m doing it right.”

 

“You need a make a loop there,” Yamato sighed in exasperation, using his good arm to gently guide Hiro’s hands through the proper steps. “Like that.”

 

Hiro did up Yamato’s tie neatly with those instructions, and he tugged and straightened it up, pressing his palms against Yamato’s chest when he was done. “There we are.” His eyes trailed over Yamato’s injured shoulder, smoothing his fingers over where the scars were. “You can’t see it at all.”

 

“Well, that is what the purpose of clothing is,” Yamato deadpanned. “To hide the body underneath.”

 

“I know that. I mean it doesn’t show here,” Hiro lifted his hand up to brush his fingers against Yamato’s neck, just above the edge of the collar. “You’re holding yourself a bit stiffly, but that’s the only thing that shows you injured.”

 

Yamato frowned at Hiro’s odd tone, watching at the brunet idly smoothed his hands over the front of his shirt in slow, repetitive motions. “…Hiro?”

 

“Mm…?”

 

“Did Yanagiya drug you when my back was turned?”

 

“What? I hope not,” Hiro chuckled. He leaned forwards lightly, his hands sliding up to rest on the slope where Yamato’s neck met his shoulders. “Excuse me; I’m just going to have a sappy moment. I’m really glad you’re okay.”

 

Yamato stared at him.

 

“Well…yes, I know you are,” he said slowly, as if speaking to someone particularly dim-witted. “It’s quite obvious.”

 

Hiro just gave him this flat, disappointed stare before he started laughing. “Yamato- you’re impossible, you know that? Here I am trying to start a poignant moment-”

 

“Then you shouldn’t say things that are so glaringly apparent.”

 

“-and you break up the mood by saying stuff like that,” Hiro continued, his grin amused. “I don’t know why I try being romantic with you.”

 

“I don’t know either. It is obvious that it never works with us,” Yamato muttered, pleased that Hiro seemed to be acting like his usual self now. If Hiro had started to get emotional over what had happened, Yamato wouldn’t have the slightest clue on how to handle it. “Case in point – your way of wooing me was to wrestle me onto my desk and kiss me. I think that is deviant from the normal view of romantic.”

 

“Who the hell says ‘wooing’ anymore?” Hiro spluttered, choking back his laughter, “But…I guess you have a point.”

 

“Of course I do,” Yamato sniffed. “So next time you attempt to create a ‘poignant moment’, you shoul _mmmph_ -”

 

Hiro cut Yamato off by tightening his hands on his shoulders and dragging him downwards into a hard kiss. It was a moment of raw satisfaction for the both of them, a press of lips and tongue and nip of teeth and- Hiro pulled away, breathless and grinning, his face faintly flushed. Yamato let out a quiet, disgruntled noise, leaning in a bit more, but Hiro pressed his hand against his mouth to hold him back.

 

“Nuh-uh,” Hiro purred, “Every time you nearly die, I’m going to tease you by not finishing any of our kisses.”

 

Yamato regarded him with dark eyes, pulling away to show the corner of his mouth tilting upwards slightly. “That does not sound like a very stern punishment.”

 

“You’ll see. It’ll drive you absolutely insane,” Hiro said innocently, patting Yamato’s chest before pulling away from him – just as Otome re-entered the room.

 

“Are you two done with your make out session?” she asked shamelessly, smiling as she looked between Yamato and Hiro’s faces. Hiro wasn’t sure what gave them away, but he felt his ears turn red in response.

 

“Make out session?” Yamato questioned, sounding puzzled.

 

“Nothing!” Hiro interrupted before Otome could open her mouth. “Alright, so, we free to go?”

 

“Yes. Run, be free, just don’t do anything that’ll worsen your injuries, sir,” Otome said, and there was something peculiar in her tone that made Yamato tilt his head in curiosity. Hiro, however, looked flustered about something and picked up the report from the stool.

 

“Pervert,” Hiro huffed, “You’re such a pervy doctor.”

 

“It’s perfectly healthy to want to reconnect in a-”

 

“We haven’t even connected yet!” Hiro squawked, flapping his papers at Otome. “Stop making up those stories!”

 

“As entertaining as this is,” Yamato droned, “Your shrieking is beginning to give me a headache. Let’s go.”

 

As Hiro grumbled over the cruelties of Yamato, Otome pressed a packet of painkillers into Yamato’s hands. “You will be sore for a few days, so those’ll help. If you do feel a sharp pain anywhere though, come back, because we may have missed something.”

 

“Understood.”

 

It was a relief to be out of the infirmary after being stuck in there for so long, and Yamato couldn’t help but have a bit of a spring to his step in response to it.

 

“Want me to drive you home?” HIro offered. “It’d be no problem for me.”

 

“You still have work to do here.”

 

“Yeah, but, but Otome said you’re to have fun with me, so, maybe-”

 

Yamato stopped suddenly, giving Hiro a flat look. “So, you will have Sako handle the entirety of our workloads as well as hers?”

 

Hiro grimaced. Man, he wasn’t that mean. “I suppose not…I’ll visit you after my shift’s over then.”

 

Yamato didn’t bother commenting how Hiro normally went to sleep after his shift was over. “Very well. Goodbye then.”

 

Hiro still looked reluctant, but he finally sighed and shuffled off with an air of a sulky child. “Bye…don’t do anything dumb.”

 

“Why do you and Yanagiya keep thinking I will do something stupid?” Yamato muttered, and waited until he was certain that Hiro was walking back to his office and not hovering, before resuming his walk. He would snag a nearby JP’s member to drive him home.

 

He rubbed his shoulder absently, grimacing slightly. It was chilling to think how close he came to losing this arm, and as much as he was going to gripe about it, he would have to make time for treatment. He was certain that if he tried to blow it off, Hiro would frogmarch him down to the infirmary himself anyway.

 

Hiro had found his inner mother hen during this whole ordeal. Yamato wasn’t sure whether or not he liked that.  

 

Well…Yamato brushed his fingers over his lips. 

 

Maybe he liked it a little. 


	14. Thirteenth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if Yamato was fighting a living mountain, Hiro would stand with him - no matter how terrified he was.

Hiro knew he was going to die. In the next five minutes, maybe ten, if he was determined enough, but he had no doubt that this walk up the mountain was going to kill him. Not because it was dangerous or anything, and not because he was unfit, but because, well…

 

_The sun._

 

It was blazing hot, unusual this early in the year, and the temperature was so great that the entire air above the ground was distorted by heat waves. Hiking was not a good activity for this weather – or rather, not a good activity while decked out in full uniform with a turtleneck sweater and hoodie underneath. But in Hiro’s defence, the day had started off cool before turning into the surface of Mercury, so he couldn’t be blamed for the wardrobe malfunction.

 

If that wasn’t awful enough, while Hiro suffered, Yamato was several metres ahead of him, dressed in his thick heavy coat and knee length boots – the guy hadn’t even broken a sweat.

 

Hiro called shenanigans.

 

“Hurry up, Hiro,” Yamato’s voice floated down the trail, sounding amused. “You’re falling behind.”

 

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Hiro wheezed, not bothering to mutter it under his breath. At this point in the trek (half way up), Hiro had abandoned his JP’s jacket (“you are paying for that if it isn’t there on the way back,” Yamato had told him, and Hiro’s response had been to give him a look of utter loathing), taken off his white hoodie to tie it around his waist, and rolled up the sleeves of his turtleneck sweater in an attempt to be somewhat cool. It didn’t work, really, and his entire body was drenched with sweat anyway, with the back of his neck prickling unpleasantly from the sun bearing down on it ruthlessly.

 

“Ugh, I give up!” Hiro howled, throwing himself rather dramatically on the mountain trail. He got a sharp rock digging into his ribs for his troubles, but at this point in his life he would welcome death. “I can’t go on!”

 

There was a pause before a shadow loomed over him.

 

“…this is unbelievably pathetic,” Yamato’s voice drawled, the toe of his boot nudging Hiro’s shoulder. “We haven’t even been walking for more than two hours.”

 

“I. Am.  _Dying_ ,” Hiro hissed, latching onto Yamato’s boot and clawing his nails over the tough leather surface like some particularly agitated cat. Yamato stared down at him, decidedly unimpressed. “How the- are you a _witch_? How are you not feeling this heat?!”

 

“I have equipped Null Fire, Hiro,” Yamato said, sounding so terribly terribly disappointed. “I thought you knew that it could also null high temperatures in general, not just fire.”

 

No, Hiro didn’t know that.

 

“Thanks for telling me,” Hiro muttered sulkily, pressing his sweaty face against Yamato’s boots. They smelt strongly of polish. “After I’ve suffered for hours-”

 

“It’s been an hour and ten minutes.”

 

“-and am on the verge of going to the other side from heatstroke. Goodbye, Yamato, it was nice while it lasted.”

 

Yamato sighed. “Ah, I thought you were more durable than this. No matter. I suppose I will call Sako then to collect your corpse and hand it over to the next of kin – if it hasn’t mummified by the time she gets here, of course.” He tugged his boot out of Hiro’s grip and started to continue back up the trail.

 

“Yamato!” Hiro groaned, cringing when the man’s shade left him, putting him directly into the sun’s rays once more. “You cruel hearted jerk! Monster! Assho-ah!”

 

Yamato returned swiftly to haul Hiro to his feet by grabbing him roughly by the scruff of his sweater. He didn’t force Hiro to continue up the trail – which was good because Hiro would’ve elbowed him in the crotch if he did – and instead they stepped off the path under the shade of some trees.

 

“We will take a fifteen minute break,” Yamato sighed, as if severely put upon. “Then we will continue. Have you got any water?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Hiro fumbled in the small satchel that had been weighing him down for the last half of the hike, pulling out a bottle of water. He grimaced at how warm it felt, but he put aside his distaste to take a few gulps – Yamato stopped him from drinking anymore by pressing his hand down on the bottle.

 

“Not too much. You will just make yourself sick. Small sips.”

 

Hiro reluctantly lowered the water bottle, but obediently took the occasional sip. He swatted at a fly buzzing irritably near his ear and tilted his head back to rest it against the tree. Now that he wasn’t in danger of cooking to death Hiro could appreciate the surroundings a bit more. The mountain wasn’t a tall one – it was a popular hiking spot – but there had been reports of a dragon here. What kind of dragon, they didn’t know, but it would be a pain if a few tourists stumbled upon it and got eaten, so…

 

“That dragon better be there,” Hiro muttered. “If we walked up the entire mountain and it’s not…”

 

“It will. Reports have indicated that it appears mostly on days where the sun is out – it is most likely basking as cold-blooded reptiles do.”

 

“I didn’t know dragons could count as cold-blooded reptiles,” Hiro murmured, watching a butterfly land on a flower a foot away from his shoe.

 

“Demon anatomy is extremely different from organisms in this world,” Yamato explained, “however some are prone to mimicking the behaviour of beings they look related too – such as dragons basking in the style of reptiles. It’s not necessary for them as it is for cold-blooded creatures; however they appear to enjoy it.”

 

“Got it. So it’s kind of like how a cat would sit in the sun?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Hiro sipped his water and screwed the cap back on. “Hold on, just going to equip Anti-Fire.” It wouldn’t completely null the heat, as it appeared to be doing for Yamato, but it would make the trip a bit more bearable.

 

The connection from this high up the mountain to the JP’s network was a bit wonky though, and it took a few, strained minutes to successfully equip Anti-Fire onto the passive abilities of his phone. Hiro didn’t fully understand the process, to be honest, but apparently the Demon Summoning App also came with a type of Harmoniser that did…something or other, that enabled certain abilities to null, reflect, or drain attacks of certain elements.

 

Hiro was certain Fumi could give him a good explanation – if he could understand her.

 

“Done?” Yamato asked.

 

Hiro nodded and slowly rose to his feet, brushing off dry dirt from his hoodie and pocketing his phone. Already he felt better, and he inhaled deeply, offering up a smile to Yamato. “Done. Alright, let’s slay that dragon.”

 

“There won’t be any slaying, possibly,” Yamato corrected, turning to step out onto the path once more. “If the demon is not hostile, we will simply seal it – or convince it to go somewhere less populated by humans.”

 

“Well that’s not as exciting,” Hiro pointed out, matching Yamato’s punishing pace up the mountain trail. “Anyway, should you be stepping into a possible battle so soon?”

 

“My arm is up to sufficient standards,” Yamato said stiffly, his tone sharp. Hiro ignored it.

 

“Well, yeah, but it’s not one hundred per cent, right?” Hiro said slowly. “I just don’t want you to pull something and get imprisoned by Otome again.”

 

Yamato glared at him.

 

“I’m just saying!”

 

“I will be fine if a battle does occur. I have full mobility, and aside from slight pain and stiffness, I have no other problems with it,” Yamato sighed in an aggravated manner. “I am more of a far ranged fighter, so this argument is moot.”

 

“Alright,” Hiro said, even if it wasn’t alright and he made sure Yamato knew it, “But if you end up fucking up your shoulder you won’t have any sympathy from me.”

 

“Good. I wouldn’t want it anyway.”

 

The silence was a bit tense between them after that, and Hiro made sure to kick every loose rock in front of him up the mountain trail. It didn’t take long for his irritation to fade and disappear – he never held onto grudges or anger very long – and he dug around in his satchel as they walked, taking out his bottle of water.

 

“So how big is this dragon, anyway?” Hiro asked casually.

 

“Large,” Yamato answered shortly. “The reports are contradictory on how large, though.”

 

“Figures,” Hiro sighed, pausing to take a large swig of his water bottle. He held it out to Yamato. “Want some?”

 

“No.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Hiro shrugged, pushing his water bottle back into his bag. Looked like Yamato was in one of his sulky moods now. “I’m going to go on ahead.”

 

Yamato just grunted, and Hiro rolled his eyes before breaking into a jog. By the time he reached the top, he was breathing harshly, Anti-Fire battling against the rising temperature valiantly and failing. There was no shade here, and the sun was burning directly above him – but there was a gentle, if somewhat dry breeze that felt nice on his sweaty skin.

 

“Phew…” Hiro panted, pulling down his rolled up sleeve to use the thick cotton as a handkerchief, wiping at his face. “I swear that sun’s getting hotter. Okay, hunting time!”

 

The peak of the small mountain was very dull. It offered a wonderful view of the surrounding forest, and Tokyo was visible in the distance as a sprawling metropolis, but aside from that there was no sign of a large dragon. After Hiro had circled the peak several times, he began to wonder if maybe the JP’s subordinate who made the report had merely gotten spooked over some shadows.

 

Hiro was standing at the very top, frowning at the ground when Yamato appeared at his shoulder. “No sign of it?”

 

“None. I mean, I think it’d be hard to miss a dragon of all things here,” Hiro said, pointedly looking around the small peak. “So either they were mistaken, or it’s already moved on.”

 

“Perhaps…” Yamato said slowly, obviously thinking over something. He looked down the side of the mountain – this side had a mountain trail, but it went over a few hilly parts of the mountain’s peak before going downwards sharply, with the trail covered in loose stones and shale. It wasn’t very safe, and Hiro was surprised that it was still a path.    

 

“…what’re you thinking?” Hiro asked after a pause.

 

“The subordinates who came here, they made the report whilst patrolling the mountains on their demons. They didn’t take a path.”

 

“Yeah…” Hiro said slowly. “But we should still be able to see the dragon from ground level, right?”

 

“I have an idea,” Yamato said, “Come with me.”

 

Yamato led them down from the peak – but didn’t take any of the two paths. They made their unsteady way down some rocky slope, snagging thorns and coarse shrubbery clinging to their trousers as they stomped through them. Hiro wasn’t sure where Yamato was leading them, but he seemed intent on a certain position.

 

There was a little jutting rock that protruded from the side of the mountain about thirty feet down the slope, and it didn’t look safe to Hiro at all. Yamato stepped onto it without a care, and turned his body to face the mountain, lifting a gloved hand to shield his eyes.

 

“…I see it.”

 

“What? You do?” Hiro said in surprise, ignoring his misgivings over the unsteady looking ledge to step beside Yamato and look in the direction he was peering.

 

…he just saw rock, shrubbery and grass.

 

“…that’s the mountain.”

 

“Yes, but it’s also the dragon.”

 

Hiro looked at Yamato, feeling slightly concerned. Maybe the Null Fire didn’t protect so well against heat after all. “Uh, you sure you’re not seeing things from the heat, Yamato…?”

 

“Just wait,” Yamato chided, nodding at a certain point on the rocky ledge they had just clambered down. “Look at the shape of the peak.”

 

Hiro humoured him, staring at the rocky shape before him. The sun was behind the peak, which made it almost impossible to look directly at it even when shading his eyes. “I see…well I can’t see anything because of the sun.”

 

Yamato didn’t say anything, and instead pulled out his phone. He flipped it open and tapped on it idly, summoning forth Garuda. In the sunlight, its rainbow feathers glittered like stained glass, its metallic armour sending off glares that were almost painful to look at.

 

“Uh, Yamato?” Hiro asked cautiously, looking around them. There was no one else up here on such a hot day, but still…

 

“Hush,” Yamato said, and he waited, Garuda waiting beside him with equal calmness. Hiro reluctantly waited too, taking out his bottle of water again to sip it idly. All he could hear was the chirp of crickets, as well as bird song, the sound of the gentle breeze rustling the coarse grass…it was sort of pleasant up here, Hiro noted, idly watching the zigzagging path of a passing bumblebee.

 

There was suddenly a noise like rock scraping against rock, and Hiro was instantly alert. Yamato tensed beside him as well, and Garuda hissed softly, clacking its beak as the mountain’s peak rumbled and – shifted?

 

Hiro watched with sheer amazement as stone cracked, revealing one giant, yellow eye in the slope they had just scaled. The eye was bigger than Yamato – and he was pretty damn tall – its pupil shrinking down into a thin slit as it focused on them. With a lurch, Hiro realised that they were probably still standing on it, as far away as they were from it still. This ledge was probably part of its  _head_.

 

“Yamato. I’m seeing a giant eye.”

 

“Yes, you are,” Yamato said calmly.

 

The entire mountain  _rumbled_ , and Hiro realised that the dragon – it was the dragon he guessed – was growling, or breathing. Honest to god Hiro couldn’t believe what he was seeing still. The rock cracked and splintered – and Hiro felt the mountain  _shift_  under his feet, and his first thought was that if this demon wanted to eat them, Hiro doubted they could defend themselves. They’d be swatted like flies.

 

“… **dEmOn** …”

 

“We caught you sleeping, have we not?” Yamato spoke, as if it was perfectly normal to speak to dragon-mountains. “We had a report that you existed here. You were roused by the demons my men used for the patrol, here.”

 

“… **cHaNgE** … **sPiRiT oF** … **dRaGoN** …”

 

Yamato frowned, and Hiro frowned with him. The words sounded like they were formed by the scrape of crack of cinderblocks against stone, but they were also groggy, like the dragon was still half-asleep. Indeed, Hiro could see the yellow eye slowly slide half closed, pupil dilating.

 

“You mean the Dragon Stream, correct?” Yamato asked after a pause.

 

“… **dEeP wRoNg** … **HuNgEr** …”

 

Then the giant eye closed, and the mountain settled, and that was that.

 

Yamato quietly dismissed Garuda, and stood there with an expression of deep thought. Hiro, meanwhile, was totally confused and was wondering what the fuck he just witnessed. He turned to Yamato, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

 

“So, uh, nice view up here.”

 

“I think I know what it is,” Yamato said, ignoring Hiro’s shaky words. “There are beasts older than humans living beneath the earth, and they are known as Colossus. They are…both demon and not, however they are always asleep. The Hotsuin family have never recorded one rousing enough to speak.”

 

“So, let me guess, they’re harbingers of destruction, or something like that?”

 

“No, actually,” Yamato tilted his head. “They are just very ancient beings, possibly the very beginnings of demons on earth. Some call them Mothers, like Tiamat, or Mem Aleph, but there is so little information about them that…” he trailed off, frowning at their boots.

 

“Okay, so right now we’re standing on a super old, ancient demon that could eat the entire population of Tokyo in one gulp?” Hiro asked. “And it’s starting to wake up?”

 

“Hungry too,” Yamato agreed. “There is not much we can do about it, and it appears to be only roused by demons being close by. I am not sure what that means, but it seems wild demons know to stay far from this place. I will place this area as a ‘no demon’ zone while we think of a proper plan.”

 

“Sounds awesome,” Hiro said flatly. “Not much we can do against a living mountain though – unless we Dragon Stream it to pieces, but that hasn’t fully recovered yet – and I really don’t want to channel Lugh again.”

 

“You will not channel Lugh again,” Yamato said firmly. “Well there is no point hashing it out here. Let’s go back and think of a plan there.”

 

“Sometimes I hate knowing these things,” Hiro sighed as they climbed back up the rocky slope, trying not to be too disturbed by the fact that they were essentially walking on a giant eyelid. “Bliss is ignorance, especially about knowing that there’s a sleeping demon thing only several miles away from Tokyo.”

 

“It is necessary for some to carry the burden of knowing. If all were ignorant, then we would have been destroyed many centuries ago.”

 

“I guess that’s true.”

 

They were back on the top of the peak – or, rather, on top of the dragon’s head, and Hiro suddenly laughed when a thought occurred to him. Yamato glanced at him oddly.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, just, a morbid thought. If this is a dragon, and that’s Tokyo, it’ll be a real-life Godzilla attack.”

 

Yamato just stared at him blankly, and Hiro resolved to tell Otome it later. She would appreciate the humour in it. “Never mind. Like you said, let’s go back.”    

 

They began back down the mountain, and Hiro tried to squash down the feeling of unease rising in him. He and Yamato had fought many battles together, and toppled demons of varying size and strength, but this…a Colossus?

 

There mere thought of facing up against such a giant creature was enough to strike a primal chord of fear in him, but, as Yamato said, someone had to carry the burden, and he wouldn’t let Yamato face such a monster on his own.

 

They’ll fight it if it came to it, and they would win too.

 

But first-

 

“Before we go back to headquarters, can we stop for ice cream first?” Hiro asked.

 

“Ice cream?”

 

“Yeah, this is the perfect weather for it,” Hiro smiled, bumping Yamato’s hip with his own. “And Rocky isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

 

Yamato gave him a long searching look, but the corner of his lip tilted upwards after a moment. “Very well. If you insist.”

 

Hiro grinned.

 

Yeah, just because they had to carry that burden, didn’t mean they had to be miserable about it. 

 


	15. Fourteenth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro invites himself over for a sleepover at Yamato’s.

“Something’s eating it.”

 

Yamato felt Hiro pause behind him for a long moment, obviously taken aback by those words, before he felt the drag of the comb pulling through his wet hair again. “What’s eating what now?”

 

“The Dragon Stream,” Yamato murmured, thumbing through the thick report. He only had an opportunity to read it now, and he really shouldn’t be taking sensitive documents like this home with him, especially in such a casual setting like this – but it couldn’t be helped. Hiro had been insistent on dinner, for some reason or other, and Yamato eventually found himself helpless to refuse.

 

Hiro had been unusually agitated in recent weeks since the discovery of the Colossus, and annoyingly he channelled that nervous energy into getting more Yamato Time.

 

“Something’s eating the Dragon Stream?” Yamato could practically hear the frown in Hiro’s voice, and there was a squeak of bed springs. Yamato grunted when he felt the brunet press snugly against his back, hands lightly grasping his upper arms as Hiro looked over his shoulder at the document in his lap.

 

“You really need to print these reports out in bigger print.”

 

“I have said it once before, Hiro, and I will say it again. If you have difficulty reading this then perhaps you should see an optician.”

 

“My eyes are fine,” Hiro huffed, leaning back. Yamato felt clever fingers stroke through his hair before massaging his scalp, which always brought up a weird purring noise in his throat. “Heh, you’re like a cat.”

 

“Shut it,” Yamato warned lazily, shaking his head slightly to dislodge the fingers. Hiro obediently pulled away, and the mattress shuddered as the brunet scooted to the side of the bed. Yamato turned his head to see Hiro leaning down, his backside in the air, followed by the click of a plug being switched on.

 

“Alrighty, time to dry that hair of yours,” Hiro said, straightening up with a hairdryer in his clutches.

 

Yamato closed the report and held it firmly down in his lap as the whine of the hairdryer started up. The next fifteen minutes were quiet – in terms of conversation – even if the hairdryer was switched off frequently for Hiro to recomb his hair. Yamato hated carrying conversations that were regularly interrupted.

 

It was only when Hiro leaned over the side of the bed to unplug the hairdryer that he spoke again. “It appears that the Dragon Stream’s levels aren’t rising as quickly as they should have been – and in fact, has reached a plateau.”

 

“That’s weird,” Hiro agreed, straightening up and moving to settle behind Yamato again. There was a pause, and then Yamato felt the drag of a brush being pulled through his now dry hair. It wasn’t really necessary, but Hiro picked up recently that Yamato enjoyed having his hair brushed – something that Yamato tried to deny even if it was futile.

 

“Very strange,” Yamato sighed. “We haven’t found a cause for it, yet. The Stakes are still in place, so there shouldn’t be a leak in its power. It is a bit frustrating…”

 

“Maybe it has something to do with that, uh, Colossus,” Hiro said. The brushing stopped, and Yamato felt the brunet press up against his back again, arms wrapping around his waist to pick up the report from his lap. Hiro rested his chin on Yamato’s shoulder, idly flipping through the thick report – although Yamato doubted he was really reading it. “It mentioned the Dragon Stream, didn’t it?”

 

“I suppose it did.”

 

“Mn. What is the situation with that, anyway?” Hiro set the report back down, although his arms remained loosely wrapped around Yamato’s waist, his chest snug against his back. Yamato normally felt a bit claustrophobic if he was trapped in such a fashion, but right now he felt too relaxed and content to feel that bothered by it.

 

“Do you even do your paperwork anymore?” Yamato scoffed. “It was in that report that you should have read yesterday.”

 

“The, uh, one with the green cover? Yeah, I didn’t read it,” Hiro confessed shamelessly. “It was almost twenty pages long with no pictures – I made Makoto read it for me.”

 

“Hiro, do I have to make someone supervise you doing your work like you are some unruly school child?” Yamato asked, wondering how someone could be so  _brilliant_  yet so irresponsible at the same time. “No, wait, you would actually bribe them to do your work for you.”

 

“You can always supervise me yourself,” Hiro said cheekily. “Merge our offices into one.”

 

“That’s highly inappropriate.”

 

“Yeah, like this isn’t already.”

 

Yamato was quiet at that. He jumped when he felt Hiro shift against him, pressing his face into the crook of his neck so he could feel his warm breath against his skin. “…the situation is that some activity has been recorded on the mountain,” well the Colossus since it  _was_  the mountain, but details. “It is still in the process of waking up – in short, awakening from Hibernation. Even if it does wake up fully, it will still be sluggish as its body adjusts.”

 

 “And once that happens, we’re all fucked.”

 

Yamato stared at the report in his lap. “…to put it crudely, yes. However we still have options to try before simply rolling over in defeat.”

 

Hiro made a small noise, although Yamato couldn’t judge it, and he tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips over the exposed skin of Yamato’s neck-

 

And blew a raspberry.

 

Yamato practically jumped about a foot in the air out of surprise, accidentally driving his elbow into Hiro’s stomach in the process. The brunet yelped loudly down his ear before tumbling backwards, but Yamato was too busy trying to calm his rapid heartbeat to really feel apologetic over it.

 

He turned around after a few moments, biting back a snort of laughter at Hiro curled up into a tiny ball, arms wrapped tightly around his middle as he groaned in pain. Served him right.

 

“That was your own fault,” Yamato said, rubbing his neck where Hiro blew the raspberry.

 

“Yeah,” Hiro wheezed. “Yeah, it was.”

 

After a pause, Hiro seemed recovered enough to slowly pull himself up, one hand pressed against his stomach. He grimaced in pain. “Fuck, you have sharp elbows.”

 

Yamato rolled his eyes and picked up the report from where it slipped onto the bed. “All the better to hit you with when you are being an idiot.”

 

“You’re so loving,” Hiro muttered.

 

Yamato slid off the bed, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. Half six in the morning. “Shouldn’t you be going home at some point, Hiro?”

 

“Do you want me to?” Hiro asked, flopping backwards to sprawl himself out comfortably on Yamato’s bed. At some point during his visit he had shed his white, bunny-eared hoodie, so the sudden, squirming movements hitched up his turtleneck sweater enough to reveal a teasing strip of taut stomach.

 

Yamato glanced at it briefly before dismissing it. “I will be doing some work now, so I won’t be able to entertain you.”

 

Hiro frowned. “You just finished work though. I thought this was the time you went to bed?”

 

“It is, but someone, who shall remain nameless, managed to convince me to finish our shifts early to have dinner,” Yamato pointed out lightly. “So I will make up for it now.”

 

“Can’t you make up for it later?” Hiro grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “I was hoping I could stay over.”

 

Yamato stared at him. “Stay over.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“…to sleep?”

 

“Yeah,” Hiro pushed himself up onto an elbow, holding out his hand with the other in an inviting gesture. His smile was strangely gentle. “I like sleeping with you.”

 

“We’ve never done it before-” Yamato began, but paused. Ah, no, that wasn’t strictly true. After when they summoned the Dragon Stream to destroy that fire demon, they had passed out in bed together for hours afterwards.

 

“C’mon,” Hiro sighed, dropping his hand. “We’ve been working our asses off on this…Colossus problem. There isn’t much we can do now except wait anyway. The research team’s investigation results won’t be in until tomorrow night, so you can’t do a whole lot until then. Nothing important, I mean.”

 

Yamato glowered. “You  _have_  been reading the report.”

 

“I skimmed it,” Hiro said lightly. “So just take a break tonight and sleep with me, okay?”

 

Yamato hated how easily Hiro could sway him at times. If it had only been several months before this, he could have turned his back on Hiro and continued to work without a hint of reluctance. Now, however, those blue eyes held him, and Yamato slowly found himself setting his report down on the bedside table.

 

“…only a brief nap,” Yamato finally acquiesced, thoroughly hating himself for his weakness.

 

Hiro smiled brightly, and Yamato found himself smiling back before he was even consciously aware of it.

 

**XXX**

 

“Hey…”

 

Yamato grumbled quietly at the soft murmur, stubbornly squeezing his eyes shut tighter as he buried deeper into his bed. He could feel Hiro’s hand pressing against his side, slowly stroking up and down and rumpling his dark nightshirt.

 

“…what…?” Yamato mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

 

“Did I wake you?” Hiro asked.

 

“Obviously,” Yamato grunted grumpily, feeling Hiro’s fingers slip under the hem of his nightshirt to trace the scar along his stomach. His skin prickled, the scar still sensitive to touch, and Yamato found himself getting dragged further and further from sleep from the weird sensations.

 

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Hiro mumbled, his hand moving in a slow, repetitive motion, his fingers stroking back and forth over Yamato’s abdominal scar. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Yamato adjusted enough to the light touch to slowly start sinking back down into drowsiness.

 

“About that Colossus thing,” Hiro spoke up suddenly. Yamato remained quiet. “I just remembered how big it is. I think the only thing that can match its size is Kohryu. Would that be able to beat it?”

 

Yamato sighed and turned over. Hiro’s hand remained under his shirt, but it slid up along his back to settle somewhere between his shoulder blades.

 

“Why are you thinking about this so suddenly?” Yamato asked, his eyes half-closed so that only glimmers of grey were visible – it was a struggle to keep them open. Although Yamato only required few hours of sleep, when he slept he slept  _hard,_  and it was an uphill battle trying to rouse him back into full awareness.

 

“Had a weird dream,” Hiro replied, his fingers reaching out to trace the scars on Yamato’s back that stretched down from his half-ruined shoulder. “Sort of psyched myself out about it.”

 

“Mm,” Yamato closed his eyes. “You said it yourself earlier. There is no need to worry about it until it happens. JP’s is trained for such things; however…we will find a way.”

 

“We always do,” Hiro agreed quietly, although he didn’t sound very convinced. Yamato didn’t know what else Hiro wanted him to say though – the future was uncertain, so Yamato wasn’t going to make empty platitudes and promises.

 

“Heh, I’m bugging you, aren’t I?” Hiro laughed suddenly, his hand sliding down Yamato’s back to rest on the curve of his lower back. “Want to sleep?”

 

“Very much so,” Yamato murmured, his brows furrowing when he felt nails lightly dig into his back, scratching lightly. He arched slightly. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Just odd.

 

“Can I get a kiss first?”

 

Yamato cracked open an eye to give Hiro an unimpressed look. “If I do will you shut up?”

 

“Yup.”

 

Well then.

 

Yamato shuffled closer until their knees knocked together uncomfortably – quickly fixed by Hiro sliding his leg in between his thighs. Yamato felt the brunet’s hand trail upwards between his shoulder blades again, and his other press against his cheek, his blue eyes bright in the dim light of his bedroom. Yamato felt a bit awkward with his own hands now, but since he was only going to kiss Hiro once, he decided that settling his hand on the brunet’s hip would do.

 

“Finished fidgeting now?” Yamato muttered. He didn’t wait for a response.

 

He leaned in, Hiro meeting him halfway, and kissed him as savagely as their first, harsh and hungry and bruising and  _damn_ he felt Hiro’s nails bite hard into his back, drawing blood and clawing  _down_ —

 

Yamato snarled into the kiss at the spike of pain and wrenched harshly at Hiro’s hip in retaliation, their groins connecting in a sudden hard press - Hiro letting out the strangest of noises past their warring mouths at the hot flush of heat that flooded them both.

 

“-fuck,” Hiro gasped, breaking the kiss with a pant, and then he shoved at Yamato, rolling him onto his back with him on top. Before Yamato could protest to their shift in positions (and the breach of their agreement of one kiss only) Hiro was kissing him hard again, hand pulling at his nightshirt before roughly pushing it up, rough palm smoothing up the flat plane of his stomach, over the smooth, tender scar, whilst sitting heavily on Yamato hips.

 

Yamato was a bit bewildered by the sudden aggression – although Hiro was hardly docile in these kisses, he normally took the passive role in them. A thrilling rush shot through him like a thunderbolt, and he amounted a counter-attack, unforgiving and rough, his hands pushing beneath HIro’s borrowed shirt to claw his nails down  _deep_.

 

Hiro let out a hiccupping noise of pain, pulling back with his mouth bruised and eyes dark, and Yamato took advantage of the vulnerable moment, bucking his hips and rolling them over in a rough tangle of limbs and blankets, and Hiro let out this little hissing noise, like an infuriated cat, and Yamato felt his aching lips pull into a grin, thrumming with sudden energy like he had never been tired at all-

 

And Hiro suddenly yanked his shirt open, breaking some of the buttons – typical – and Yamato growled and attacked the brunet’s mouth again, feeling trembling hands press and smooth over his stomach and chest before pushing his nightshirt off of his shoulders. Yamato just irritably shook the clothing off, finding its restrictiveness beyond aggravating, and broke the kiss with a rough noise when Hiro’s thigh pressed up hard against his groin and _rubbed_  and  _fucking_ —

 

-hell, before Yamato could even finish that curse Hiro rolled them over, dangerously close to the edge of the bed now, and Yamato hissed when he felt teeth and tongue tease his ruined shoulder, trailing over the web of scars and making it prickle and sear so fucking hypersensitive to the slightest bit of pressure from Hiro’s mouth and a hand was tugging at Yamato’s trousers, pulling the waistband down and into his boxers and-

 

Wait  _wait_   ** _wait_** -!

 

Yamato wasn’t sure if he said those words aloud or not but Hiro stilled immediately as if petrified, all that wild momentum crashing to a halt and leaving him utterly disorientated from the aftermath. His heart was like a rabbit’s, fast and fragile in his chest as blood roared in his ears, his face uncomfortably hot and every nerve in his body singing with an uncontrollable heat.

 

Lips kissed his shoulder gently, a sharp contrast to the earlier harshness, and Hiro tugged his trousers back up in place, fingers slowly stroking up along his sides before pressing against the mattress on either side of Yamato’s body.

 

“Too fast?” Hiro asked, and Yamato felt the tickle of hair against his jaw when Hiro slowly trailed a path from his throbbing shoulder to his neck, lightly biting his pulse point that was still fluttering at a frantic pace.

 

“Too fast,” Yamato breathed, feeling a bit calmer now. His mouth hurt – but it always hurt after kissing Hiro, and as the high from their…whatever that had been wore off, he was aware of a stinging pain assaulting his back too.

 

“Okay,” Hiro lifted himself up, his bruised lips curved into a little smile. “That was fun, eh?”

 

Yamato was still unsure on whether it was fun or not, but he had to admit that the adrenaline rush from had been exhilarating. He settled for an ambiguous shake of his head.

 

Hiro bent down, gently nipping the corner of his mouth, teasing a bruise there, before pulling back to lazily flop beside Yamato. He only kept one arm over Yamato’s stomach, fingers brushing against the very edge of his abdominal scar.

 

“G’night,” Hiro murmured, and Yamato shifted onto his side to see the brunet smiling at him. Yamato couldn’t help but smile slightly in return, and even though he felt wide awake, he closed his eyes anyway.

 

“…it’s almost noon,” he said after a brief pause.

 

Hiro’s nails dug into his side playfully. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

 

“Mmm…” Yamato smirked suddenly. “Feel better after your little nightmare?”

 

“How did you- never mind,” Hiro huffed out. “’Course you would’ve sussed it out. Yeah, I am, actually.”

 

“Good,” Yamato nudged Hiro’s shin with his foot. “Now no more interruptions or I’ll throw you out.”

 

“So mean…”

 

Yamato opened his eyes a fraction, watching Hiro from beneath his lashes, and after a pause he slowly slid his hand underneath Hiro’s shirt. The brunet let out a small confused noise, blue eyes wide – before they squinted in pain when Yamato teased the bleeding claw marks he had left on Hiro’s back.

 

“It will be fine,” Yamato said suddenly, his voice firm. “The Colossus problem.”

 

Hiro was tense under his hand, his fingertips slick and warm. “Promise?”

 

Yamato moved his hand away, leaving streaks of red on Hiro’s back. He never made empty promises.

 

“I promise.”

 

They’d both come out of it alive.


	16. Gag Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro’s quite spontaneous.

Yamato was woken up sometime at noon by a weight settling on his lower back. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was, and responded accordingly by letting out a slew of grumbling insults into his pillow, and flailing a hand vaguely in Hiro’s direction in an attempt to ward him off.

 

It didn’t work, obviously.

 

“Hey, Yamato. The hot water in your shower’s broken,” Hiro said, and it took a few slow seconds for Yamato to realise what that cold sensation on his back was. Hiro was dripping wet, and sitting on him.

 

Hiro was on his bed wet.

 

Yamato opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder with a glare. Indeed, Hiro’s curly hair was dripping water everywhere, and his bare chest had beads of water droplets slowly trailing down the sharp angles of his torso. He closed his eyes and prayed that this was one of those strange ‘wet dreams’ he had heard of.

 

“…please tell me you’re wearing a towel.”

 

“No,” Hiro said shamelessly. “The shower’s broken. Fix it.”

 

“I am not performing plumbing this early in the day. Fix it yourself.”

 

“It’s  _your_  shower,” Hiro complained, pushing at Yamato’s shoulders. The dampness soaked through his nightshirt in mere seconds, but Yamato stubbornly pressed his face into his pillow. He couldn’t sleep now, not when he was half-soaked thanks to Hiro, but that didn’t mean he was going to get up and help him. It would be reinforcing bad behaviour.

 

“Get off. You’re making me wet,” Yamato grumbled, and totally unsurprised when Hiro leant closer instead, pressing his bare ( _wet,_ he cannot stress it enough) torso against his back.  

 

“Oh, Mr. Yamato, ooh…” Hiro suddenly simpered into his ear, adopting a very disturbing falsetto in the process. “What crude words you spe-ah!”

 

Yamato elbowed Hiro sharply in the side, smirking in satisfaction when the brunet rolled off of him with a pained groan. He lifted his head and smiled and Hiro curled up on his bed – getting everything wet, but at least he got his comeuppance.

 

“Serves you right,” Yamato said smugly, propping himself up onto his elbow with a vicious grin. “Now put on some undergarments.”

 

Hiro glowered at him before his lips slowly curved into a wolfish smile. Yamato was instantly on guard.

 

“…what is that disturbing look for- ack! Hiro!”

 

Hiro pounced upon him, and after a brief struggle, he had rolled on top of Yamato and pinned his hands down by his wrists, looming over the silverette with a leer. Yamato squirmed and kicked his legs, but Hiro wouldn’t budge. Although Yamato had the advantage in height, Hiro had the advantage in weight, and could easily sit on Yamato to keep him still with little difficulty because of it.

 

“You’re really easy to beat in the mornings,” Hiro noted, flexing his fingers around Yamato’s wrists. “Maybe I should ambush you more often or something, because it’s really sad how-  _OW MOTHERFUC-_ ”

 

Yamato bit Hiro on the wrist –  _hard_  – and wrenched his hand free when Hiro recoiled with a howl of pain, slamming his palm against the brunet’s shoulder and shoving him over. In a matter of seconds their positions were reversed, Yamato sitting on Hiro’s (unfortunately bare) hips, and his strong hands holding down Hiro’s wrists.

 

Something warm and liquid tickled between his fingers, and Yamato licked his lips, tasting copper on his tongue.

 

“You were saying?”

 

Hiro’s face was scrunched in pain, tears clinging to his thick eyelashes as he whined and squirmed underneath Yamato. “T-That really hurt! I can’t believe you  _bit_  me!”

 

“How else was I going to break free?” Yamato asked innocently, but he relaxed his punishing grip and slowly pulled up Hiro’s hand. On the wrist, Yamato’s teeth had broken the skin, the flesh around the puncture wounds already beginning to darken into a bruise. Catching Hiro’s teary glare, Yamato leaned down and slowly dragged his tongue over the wounds, smirking when he felt the trapped limb tremble beneath his fingers.

 

“Mn, damned vampire…” Hiro grumbled, but his angry expression eased somewhat, his blue eyes intent on following the movements of Yamato’s tongue.

 

So predictable.

 

Yamato released Hiro’s other hand, curling his fingers at the base of Hiro’s forearm, just before his elbow, his other hand trailing its fingers over the back of the brunet’s hand as his tongue gently dug into one of the puncture wounds, drawing a quiet hiss from Hiro. His eyes slipped shut slowly, and he focused on the slight hitches of breath, the movements of the delicate muscle and bone in the wrist beneath his tongue as Hiro’s fingers twitched and spasmed – and if he swiped his tongue just up here, pressing down he could feel the rapid flutter of his pulse…

 

Fingers curled into his hair, clenching hard into the silky strands and forced his head back and away from Hiro’s wrist. Yamato chuckled lowly as he went with the rough handling, feeling Hiro shift underneath him, leaning upwards and – he groaned when he felt blunt teeth dig into his throat, right next to his Adam’s apple, and he tightened his grip around Hiro’s arm, his thumb pressing into a bruising wound.

 

“You’re a brat,” Hiro muttered against his neck, and he pulled his wrist free roughly, grasping tight at Yamato’s hip instead. Teeth and tongue punished his throat harshly, and Yamato enjoyed every second of it.

 

“Pot c-calling, ngh, kettle black, you-”

 

Hiro pushed forwards and Yamato snarled when he was knocked backwards onto the bed. Hiro loomed over him, blue eyes dark and wet hair dishevelled and body lean and taut and Yamato got a bit distracted when his gaze dipped lower but then Hiro was moving downwards in a near lunging movement, catching his mouth and kissing him  _hard_  enough for it to hurt-

 

-hand slipped under his nightshirt, toying with the scar and-

 

-suddenly moved downwards, into his boxers without a moment of hesitance and Yamato’s breathing shuddered violently, his diaphragm spasming when fingers  _gripped_  a-and godfuckingdamnfuck-

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yamato gasped into the kiss, practically throwing his arms around Hiro’s waist at the sudden rush of heat and  _pressure_ , his nails biting into the bare flesh of his back, breaking the skin, clawing deep angry welts along the careful slope of the brunet’s spine like paper-

 

“Mmn, not yet,” Hiro purred, sounding too smug to go unpunished. Yamato dug his nails in a little deeper, and was rewarded with the hand tightening around him until the line between pain and pleasure blurred deliciously. He tipped his head back, feeling Hiro’s lips press against his jaw line, a kiss evaded, and his chest started to heave in great shuddering gasps when Hiro’s hand moved, fast and sure.

 

Yamato bit his tongue, harsh breaths escaping him as his heels grounded into the mattress, feet slipping and sliding over the blankets and tangling them up around his ankles, knees bending and flexing and digging into Hiro’s sides as the hand moved and  _moved_  and m-moved and finally noises were getting lodged in his throat, heavy and dark and a sharp squeeze made them explode out of him with a yowl that sounded like it belonged more on an animal from a nature program than a human being.

 

He was slipping into a burning abyss, his fingers scrabbling frantically at Hiro’s back, nails clawing and scratching and fingers twitching, slick with spilt blood and warm and everything was warm, hot and Yamato could see bright lights flashing behind his twitching eyelids, Hiro’s mouth wet and hot on his throat down his shoulder- when was his shirt undone??- and God he was going to die he felt like he was going to die because he couldn’t breathe and the fire was consuming him from inside out and-

 

“That’s it,” Hiro’s voice murmured somewhere beyond into reality, maybe, the words murmured against his shoulder, against his throbbing scars, and his hand moved faster than ever, an obscene wet noise filling the bedroom past Yamato’s harsh breathing and strange animal noises. “C’mon, you’re close now.”

 

“Ngh-!” Yamato bit his tongue hard and threw his head back, his spine bending like a bow’s as his hips pumped up into the strong grip, his feet grinding hard into the mattress as every muscle in his body drew taut. “G-God-!”

 

“Mn, stop holding back,” Hiro purred, and his lips were against Yamato’s ear followed by something wet and warm gently tracing the delicate shell. “Come on, Yamato, just a little bit more…”

 

“S-Shut, ah, ahn, u-up,” Yamato forced out raggedly, his eyes fluttering open and gazing unseeingly at the ceiling as his body moved against his will, thrusting and pushing up into the tight hand, lips parting as a small whine caught in his throat. “I-It’s, Hin…Hiro…!”

 

“Mmn…?” Hiro’s lips trailed up along his cheek and then blue eyes were in view, dark and hungry and watching keenly. Yamato closed his eyes, feeling too exposed beneath the intense stare, and a sudden sharp bolt of raw heat made his body snap upwards in a sudden movement, a keening noise escaping him before he could bite it down.

 

“Nnnnnnn- _ah_!”

 

God.

 

Fuck.

 

 _God_.

 

GodGod _god-_

 

Everything went so tight and hot it was almost numb, and Yamato had a moment of floating in pure white ecstasy and heat and god, his brain couldn’t move beyond that word, this was god it felt like god and god it was god-

 

And awareness trickled into Yamato’s mind in little bits and pieces once it passed. He was breathing, still alive, body hot, wet, warm wet, and breathing, breathing, lips on his, blue eyes above him, small smile, hiro, hiro, hiro-

 

“H-Hiro…”

 

“Mmhmm…” Hiro smiled, pecking him lightly. “That’s my name. Alright?”

 

Fuck Yamato didn’t know. His brain felt like it was melted. “Nh?”

 

“I’ll take your dazed expression and this mess on my hand as a yes,” Hiro grinned, pulling away and lifting his hand up. Stripes of white fluid stained the palm, dripping from the fingers, and Yamato could only stare as Hiro held his gaze before slowly dragging his tongue over the mess.

 

Of course it was ruined by Hiro making a face immediately afterwards and dropping his hand to wipe it off on Yamato’s trousers instead. “Wow, that is gross.”

 

“Right,” Yamato said, still feeling extremely disorientated. He managed to push himself up on his elbows though, his limbs feeling about as stable as limp noodles, and slowly raked his fingers through his sweat damp hair. His shirt was open, he realised, and his trousers were pulled down so that-

 

Yamato hurriedly pulled his boxers back up, grimacing at the dampness inside of them. “That was rather abrupt,” he managed to say.

 

“Sexy stuff is fun when it’s spontaneous,” Hiro leered, waggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner.

 

“If you say so,” Yamato murmured, and he felt a bit more confident pushing himself up a bit more. He felt shaky and weak, like he was coming down from a particularly bad bout of flu, but there was a bone deep satisfaction accompanying it – it was a weird mesh of emotions.

 

“You should probably shower,” Hiro said helpfully, and leaned backwards to stretch out languidly on Yamato’s bed – still nude mind. “And then join me for round two?”

 

“Maybe I should shower while you go home.”

 

“How classy. Kicking me out after you got off. You know how to appreciate a guy.”

 

Yamato pinched Hiro’s calf and was rewarded with a hissing whine. He slowly slid off the bed. He lifted his arms high above him in a lazy stretch, his lips curving into a pleasant smile.

 

“If you promise to behave, perhaps I will return my debt after my shower.”

 

“Your debt?” Hiro looked confused briefly before he sat up in realisation, his cheeks flushing. “Wait, you mean-”

 

“If you put some clothes on first.”

 

Hiro eyed Yamato shrewdly. “What’s the point if they’re going to come off?”

 

“Ah, Hiro, I thought you’d understand,” Yamato purred. He maintained eye contact as he slowly brushed his open nightshirt from his shoulders, and hooked his thumb into the waistbands of both his trousers and boxers, lowering them down enough to teasingly show a flash of tempting skin. “Unwrapping the present is half of the fun.”

 

Hiro’s eyes were wide, and Yamato saw his throat bob in a thick swallow. “…so clothes, right?”

 

“Clothes.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Yamato stepped out of his fallen trousers and boxers and strutted happily into his bathroom, hearing the squeaks of the springs as Hiro practically flew off his bed.

 

He had hoped to get some work done when he woke up but, hm, perhaps some invigorating exercise beforehand wouldn’t go amiss.

 


	17. Fifteenth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to Hell in a handbasket.

[Shadowlord ~ Memory ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFxDHnZ2BDc) 

 

Hiro had a stitch clawing at his side as he pushed himself through the milling confusion on the train platform. The evacuation was going slower than expected, something that was sending Yamato into a foul mood, but several days’ notice or not it was downright impossible to evacuate the entirety of Tokyo’s population. There were still people refusing to leave, still a massive wait, still traffic going on for miles outside of the city…

 

It was insane.

 

“Daichi!”

 

The trains themselves were backed up, trying to ship out as many people as possible. The platforms were filled to bursting, and only the intimidating presence of the SDF prevented any unfortunate accidents – such as people being shoved onto the railroad tracks. It had been fine the first few days – people were confused and annoyed but now-

 

“Daichi! Daichi, here!”

 

The air was charged with a primal fear, everyone suddenly eager to leave, to flee, and Hiro couldn’t blame them. A part of him wanted to run away too, but he couldn’t, because like Yamato said, there were those who were burdened with knowing, burdened with  _fighting_.

 

“Hiro! I can’t- argh!”

 

Hiro managed to push himself over to where Daichi was. His friend was looking a bit pale, but everyone was looking pale, and beside him Io was looking a bit bewildered by the agitated press of people. They had their bags with them, that was good, and they should be on the next train out – even if Hiro had to pick them up and carry them onto it.

 

“Thank God I caught you,” Hiro panted, rubbing at his side. His uniform was a bit dishevelled, half-buttoned up and covered in thick brick dust, and he tried to fix it quickly as he looked Daichi and Io over. “You ready to go?”

 

“Y-Yeah. It’s crazy, Hiro,” Daichi muttered, his mouth drawn into a tight line. “I thought- man I know you do that weird stuff with magic or whatever-”

 

“I’m sorry. We’re going to stop it now,” Hiro said, even though he had no idea  _how_  they were. “It’s just, we should at least make sure everyone’s safe. We had hoped the evacuation-”

 

Screams sounded out when the entire world rumbled, the lights ahead flickering on and off wildly. Hiro clutched onto Daichi and Io’s arms, and steadying them both until the rumbling stopped – the tense air was almost reaching a frenzy at this point, and Hiro looked anxiously at the gathered SDF personnel. He hoped this wouldn’t get messy.

 

“Shit,” Daichi muttered. “You alright there, Io?”

 

“Mm! I’m fine!” Io shakily adjusted her coat. Words buzzed through the overhead intercom followed by the roar of the approaching train. Hiro started shepherding both of his friends towards the platform’s edge.

 

“You two be safe, okay?!” Hiro shouted over the sudden commotion. Daichi and Io will hopefully go to safety, and Hiro knew that Hinako and Airi had left today – as for Joe, he didn’t know, the guy didn’t charge his mobile so none of them had gotten into contact, although Ronaldo said he would check up on him – although Ronaldo was staying because every police, soldier, JP’s member were staying behind so, oh and Keita and Jungo, Keita was trying to drag Jungo from the restaurant and, and-

 

“We’ll be fine, okay!” Daichi shouted back, and Hiro couldn’t help but look at him helplessly. Daichi tried to smile, although it turned out more into a grimace before he said, “I mean, we’re gonna go on a vacation while you play Superhero! We should be telling you to be careful, you idiot!”

 

“Yes!” Io added. “You’ll be safe, won’t you, Hiro?”

 

As the train pulled in, Hiro plastered on his best smile. “Yup! I’ve got Charlie’s Angels looking after me, remember?”

 

“Makoto and-”

 

“Ah, the train!” Hiro interrupted, nudging his friends forwards before something awful broke out with the tense mob. “Go! I’ll see you later, okay! We have to go to Kyoto together, after all!”

 

“R-Right! Be careful, Hiro!”

 

“Be safe!”

 

Hiro waited until they were safely on the train before pushing back through the mob, trying to swallow down the painful lump in his throat. He felt scared. He was scared. He was scared he was scared  _he was scared_ …

 

And so was everyone else, he realised, trying to deafen himself to the wails lifting from the mob.

 

**XXX –[Shadowlord ~ Memory 2](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aB-UiQwnCjI) **

 

The Tokyo Skytree offered a great vantage point for Yamato to observe the situation, and sadly the entire affair was grim.

 

Adachi City could be seen in the distance, now sadly underfoot of the Colossus. It had awoken yesterday afternoon, and began its slow trek towards Tokyo. Adachi City was the first ward it encountered, and now it was on the cusp of the Sumida ward.

 

And that was not getting into the Colossus’s  _friends_ …

 

“Sir! We have reports that the demons have broken the barricade!”

 

“Annoying,” Yamato muttered under his breath, frowning as plumes of smoke arose from the streets below. Gunshots carried up even this high up – JP’s members were so stretched they had to rely on the SDF giving support, even if conventional weapons were ineffective. They needed some meat to throw into the grinder, and the SDF fulfilled that role admirably.

 

“What of the situation in Adachi City?”

 

“Attempts to slow the Colossus have been a failure,” Makoto reported, frowning as she listened to the report given over the radio. Fumi was down below with the rest of the monitoring equipment, but Makoto was in charge of delivering the status reports to Yamato as they came in. “Its hide repels any and all magic and physical assaults.”

 

“Hm…”

 

Yamato looked to the distance. The Colossus was an ever growing shape in the smoke shrouded distance. He was uncertain what its goal was, but he had his suspicions. It could not go through Tokyo. If it broke through JP’s line of defence, they would not be able to stop its path towards Osaka – where the Dragon Stream was strongest at the Tsuutenkaku tower.

 

“It seems desperate times call for desperate measures, doesn’t it?” Yamato said wryly, turning away from the observational deck. “Sako, handle any and all complications that arise from here on out – oh, and contact Hiro. Tell him to go to the border of Sumida to join the front lines there.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“I am sure you will be able to handle this task?” Yamato asked, staring Makoto down. The woman’s eyes hardened and she nodded.

 

“I will, sir. Good luck.”

 

“Hrn, luck won’t help us.”

 

Luck wouldn’t, but a miracle would.

 

**XXX –[Shadowlord](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrBJ6MwuHD8) **

 

It was pure chaos. Otome started on one injured patient only to have several more being pushed into the emergency aid tent. Her hands ached, and so did her mind, from the strain of healing magic, but she couldn’t falter. She couldn’t. If she did-

 

No one knew what the Colossus wanted, but its intentions weren’t friendly, and she refused to allow it to go to where her daughter was.

 

“Otome!”

 

Otome grunted in acknowledgement, not looking up from where she frantically tried to stem the bleeding of a wounded SDF soldier. It was appalling – she saw more soldiers in here than JP’s. They didn’t have demons – only their guns and they were  _useless_  to the creatures out there.

 

“Shit,” Hiro’s voice muttered next to her. “Need a hand? I’m here for an hour before I need to go ahead.”

 

“Please.”

 

Hiro moved onto the soldier beside this one, his hands glowing with the healing magic of Diarahan. He wasn’t a certified doctor or nurse, but right now Otome wasn’t picky on who healed who right now. Everyone was stretched thin, soldiers and doctors alike.

 

Otome felt her concentration falter when the very earth rocked, and shouts of surprise rose within the tent. She could hear a terrible breaking noise, like the very world itself was in the process of snapping apart. She continued to heal though – her world was this tent, and the patients before her. She would save all she could, even if outside was being destroyed.

 

“It’s awful out there, Otome,” Hiro murmured, his voice so quiet that she barely heard it over the moans of pain and the breaking world. “I can’t- even begin to describe it.”

 

“I know,” Otome responded, looking up to see Hiro’s face looking so sickeningly pale. They had seen terrible things during their days as JP’s, but this large scale invasion – it wasn’t anything they could’ve imagined.

 

Hiro’s expression turned grim. “We can’t let it go on any further.”

 

Otome couldn’t help but feel that there was an ‘again’ implied in those words.

 

Then the world rocked again, and through the tent’s opening stumbled more soldiers, more JP’s members, each looking like they had gone through Hell itself to get here.

 

They probably had.

 

**XXX –[Shadowlord ~ Roar](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkmi7Qvjizc) **

 

**_“So it seems it has come to this.”_ **

 

“Yes.”

 

**_“Then in the aid of Japan, I will give you my power.”_ **

 

“We will need more time. Stall the Colossus.”

 

**_“If that is your wish, Hotsuin, then I will grant it. But know that not even my power will be a match against this beast.”_ **

 

“I said to stall it, not to defeat it. We humans will have that honour.”

 

**_“Such arrogance you contain! But know this; my death will be your death, in this pact of ours. I will fight the Colossus, but my death will be ensured, as will_ ** **_yours.”_ **

 

“I will die only when  _I_  decide to.”

 

**_“And that is now, Hotsuin. You are a sacrifice, as am I. Do not fear, though, it shall be a death of glory, embodying the Will of the Species. Humans live off of the backs of sacrifices.”_ **

 

“…”

 

**_“Do not make such a face. I will ensure that our demise will be painless…now let us go to the beast! Let us fight and burn!”_ **

 

**XXX –[The Dark Colossus Destroys All](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLR2p8-UrnA&feature=relmfu)**

 

Hiro barely had time to think. He was running then ducking then jumping then throwing himself flat on the ground, screams and gunfire and explosions swirling around him like some horrible storm. Monsters, demons, perhaps, streamed through the streets, leaping down from the sky above, while the shadow of the Colossus moved ever closer, like a looming eclipse.

 

Nothing they did slowed the damn thing. It just moved, slowly and surely, like an unstoppable force, no matter the gunfire the fire the ice the wind anything. Hiro had never felt so helpless as he did then, and he knew, if they didn’t stop it here –

 

If they didn’t…it couldn’t go to Osaka. It just couldn’t. So orders were that a nuclear strike – on Tokyo itself! Such a thing made everyone fight with a mindless frenzy. They couldn’t allow the city to be destroyed in such a way, especially if it was uncertain if nuclear weapons even worked on demons, let alone this thing!

 

Hiro pushed himself up from the cracked road, panting heavily as he craned his head back. He could see the Colossus. It was massive – no, even that sounded like an understatement. He pressed his hand against Fenris’s soft fur before mounting the beast, pressing low against its back as he urged it forwards.

 

Frontlines. That was right underneath the beast itself.

 

The monsters came from the Colossus, beings that looked too alien to be called demons either, and yet they- everything in this place was so similar. The destroyed streets, the fear, the demon choked streets – it was like he had been tossed into a Hell he’d been in once before…!

 

But all thoughts of that were thrown from Hiro’s mind when an ear-shattering roar bellowed out. The entire world shook from the sheer  _sound_  of it, and everything was muted, a loud ringing noise piercing his brain as the chaos exploded around him in a surreal sort of quiet.

 

And a shadow obscured the sky and Hiro looked up to see-

 

_Its foot…!!!_

 

Fenrir sprinted, only just getting clear before the gigantic clawed foot smashed into the ground. Hiro was thrown from his demon from the shockwave, slamming hard into the debris strewn pavement before rolling to a stop. His shoulder cracked strangely as he pushed himself up, sight blurred with agony, but got up anyway.

 

Only two streets down was Otome’s emergency aid tent. That monster would reach it in few minutes if they couldn’t-

 

Even though Hiro knew it was futile, he flung the strongest Bufudyne spell at the thing. The ice smashed into the hide, only a small speck of ice compared to the entirety of the monster, before cracking and shattering, leaving…nothing.

 

Fenrir suddenly lunged into view, slamming into one of the monsters – all long limbs and grotesque and – familiar in that manor that underground, _what_ -?! – and Hiro threw himself down, the air displacing as another monster attempted to decapitate him.

 

Hiro rolled onto his back to see the grotesque face, a wide open maw of sharp red teeth, leering down at him, long arms bending and flexing in awful parodies of movements and-

 

“ _AGIDYNE!”_

 

The monster howled, consumed with flames, and fell back. Hiro scrambled to his feet, staying away from the wild swipes of claws – knowing how easily they can shear into flesh, digging out guts – staggering back as he flung a blind Agidyne to the side when he saw movement-

 

Fenrir screamed- phone beeped  ** _dead_**  and Hiro summoned Seiryuu, the twisting blue dragon burst to life its roar tinny and pathetic compared to the roars of the Colossus and  _Agidyne-!_

 

The long-limbed monsters were too- so many, Hiro could barely shoot off enough spells and Seiryuu bellowed as one sank its claws into its blue hide, ripping tearing – then-

 

Lightning boomed around them, sending off the monsters with screams, and a JP’s member – Hiro couldn’t recognise the face past the soot and blood – ran past, Barong springing at their heels and crackle of ozone as lightning rained down again – momentary peace.

 

Hiro turned to Seiryuu, healing the deep claw marks with a soft murmur. The Colossus was further down the street now, the earth will shuddering with each slow step. Hiro was tired. They had been fighting since yesterday and HIro just wanted to lie down and sleep until it was gone.

 

“Just a bit more,” Hiro murmured, smoothing his hand over the dragon’s scales. “A bit more…”

 

Then that bit more came in a burst of golden light, and even the Colossus halted when the great golden dragon, [Kohryuu](http://kivaember.tumblr.com/post/29494869986/theartofanimation-gia-nguyen-hoang), plunged through the thick clouds of smoke, maw open in a revitalising roar, with the sky exploding from Judgement.

 

Yamato had entered the playing field, and with it Hope.

[](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFxDHnZ2BDc)

[](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFxDHnZ2BDc)


	18. Sixteenth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sacrifice was bitter.

**[Shadowlord](http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=hYsZ4T3pc1w#/0;184) **

 

Yamato’s heart felt like it was lodged somewhere in his throat as he stood atop of Kohryu’s head, grasping onto its long antlers for balance. The Colossus was below him, its crimson eyes gleaming like twin suns. It looked like a mountain, a mountain with legs and a head – a turtle, actually. A mountain turtle.

 

He honestly wasn’t sure where his thoughts were going. He was incredibly…nervous.

 

**_“Are you ready?”_ **

 

Kohryu’s voice was thunder, rumbling around them. Judgement had been ineffective against the Colossus, but it seemed to have culled some of the number of the monsters. Yamato squinted down at the world below, but everyone were just little dots on the ground. He couldn’t tell if Hiro was down there, if he was alive or not…

 

“Yes.”

 

His grip tightened around the cool metal in his palm. They were scraping the bottom of the Last Resort barrel. The Dragon Stream was unable to be used, and no sealed demon had the strength to face off against the Colossus, so that left the final of all resorts. One that probably wouldn’t even work, because its power was based on legend, and it had never even been tried and tested, locked away in the very bottom of JP’s headquarters, far from demon and human hands.

 

The mythical weapon: the Spear of Longinus.

 

It didn’t look very mythical. It was half rusted, the blade deeply pitted with scratches and chips, and the tip was blunted. However this spear was rumoured to be able to slay any being in existence, be they God or Demon or Man. Yamato felt that the Colossus came under one of those labels.

 

The only problem was where to stick it, since Yamato was certain that he couldn’t just jab it somewhere on its leg and kill it like that.  

 

Truthfully this was Yamato’s shoddiest, hastily put together plan yet. His only consolation was that if he died, he wouldn’t be around to suffer the humiliation of failure.

 

“Let us go and meet our end, shall we?” Yamato laughed, the noise ringing a bit hollow.

 

Kohryu roared in agreement – and down they went towards the open jaws of the Colossus, the wind howling from the sheer speed. The beast was fast when it wanted to be, and Kohryu barely managed to twist his serpentine body away from the massive maw, giving them a flash of its teeth – which were twice as big as Yamato and jagged like broken rock.

 

A jolt almost wrenched Yamato free from his hold on Kohryu, and a loud shriek of raw agony rent the air. Yamato looked over his shoulder to see that the Colossus managed to catch Kohryu’s long body in its claws, sharp and gigantic; slicing through the golden scales like it was nothing more than flimsy tinfoil.

 

**_“H-Hotsuin, you must jump!”_ **

 

Kohryu was writhing, trying to dislodge itself from the tight grip, and Yamato gritted his teeth in frustration. The Colossus was snapping wildly at the captive Kohryu, but the dragon managed to twist and bend out of reach, still snagged within those claws like a worm in a child’s hold. The Colossus was almost over sixty feet down, a grand expanse of rock.

 

He would die if he jumped.

 

He would die if he remained here.

 

**_“Hotsuin!”_ **

 

Yamato jumped without a second thought, the Spear still in his grip, with the screams of Kohryu following his descent. In the wild, spinning world of his fall, Yamato could see the shower of crimson that painted the sky when the Colossus’s jaws finally sank into the golden dragon’s body.

 

Then the world shifted and all he could see was the Colossus rushing up to meet him.

 

But only for a moment.

 

In a blur of nauseating motion something snagged him around the waist, halting his fall almost painfully, and all Yamato could see was Hiro’s face, pale and terrified, his blue eyes wide.

 

“Yamato!”

 

Ah, he wasn’t falling anymore.

 

“You caught me.”

 

“Don’t fucking say it like that!” Hiro shouted, hauling Yamato up onto the back of Seiryu.

 

Yamato felt very detached from everything, still gripping onto the spear as he was settled before Hiro on the back of the dragon. His eyes wandered over to where Kohryu was still thrashing within the Colossus’s hold. He was still alive, and both titans were screaming and lashing out at one another, no finesse – just two forces of nature colliding.

 

“We have to land on the Colossus,” Yamato told Hiro.

 

“Okay,” Hiro said, his voice trembling. “Okay we will.”

 

There was no hesitance, and Seiryu plummeted down towards the gigantic titan. As they drew near to the beast’s rocky hide, Yamato could see the long-limbed monsters crawling out of cracks and pits in the Colossus’s skin. Ah, so that’s where they were coming from.

 

“Shit-!”

 

Seiryu howled when a bolt of sharp ice rammed into its body, barely missing Hiro’s leg. The dragon fell, and Yamato felt Hiro wrap one arm around his waist before they jumped from the fallen demon. They were weightless for a few heart stopping seconds before they both hit the uneven ground hard, followed by the crash of Seiryu landing behind them.

 

Hiro’s phone beeped a beat later –  ** _dead_**  – and then the mass of grotesque demons swarmed.

 

Only to be chased off by a blaze of screaming fire, Hiro’s expression frightened yet determined as the inferno raged around them, his phone held up like some sort of shield. Yamato felt Hiro’s hand grasp onto his arm painfully, but didn’t shake the bruising grip off, instead looking around him, trying to find an escape, to find a solution, to find…

 

“Where to?”

 

Yamato stared at Hiro. The brunet was giving him a look of complete and total trust – trust that Yamato had a plan, and wasn’t just making up shit as he went along in hopes that they would do something right and kill this beast.

 

“The head.”

 

At every angle Yamato looked, the head was the sole vulnerable place to plunge the spear.

 

“Alright! Let’s go!”

 

Crackle of energy, and Cerberus roared to life. The inferno was beginning to die down, and with it the long-limbed demons were returning, red teeth bared and sharp claws flashing – before there was a terrible thudding noise and the eight heads of Orochi were plunging into the swarm, ripping up the screeching monsters and  _crunching_ -

 

But they were running, Hiro’s hand on his arm, Cerberus at his side, jumping through the dying flames and towards the Colossus’s head.

 

Bellows thundered towards them as they ran, the horizon they were aiming for flashing with lightning and sharp teeth as Kohryu and the Colossus rent and tore at each other with primal viciousness. It was like they were rushing towards their own end.

 

“Shit!” Hiro yanked Yamato to the side and Cerberus lunged, smashing into the swarm of monsters that literally erupted from the Colossus’s hide. The entire world rocked, and with a piercing cry the Colossus was driven to its knees by Kohryu. Screeches howled out, monsters scrambling and tumbling at the sudden tilt, and Cerberus was crouched low, trying to remain standing-

 

Hiro was pulling them forwards, feet catching into the rocky footholds and hand clutching at the scraggly grass growing out of the beast’s hide for balance. Then the world rocked violently to the other side, throwing them both to the ground with enough force to drive the very air out of their lungs.

 

“God, can’t it just stay still?!” Hiro panted, pulling Yamato to his feet.

 

“It’s a bit difficult when you have a dragon attempting to claw off your face,” Yamato quipped, adjusting his hold on the spear. They had a bit of respite at the moment, and Yamato used the break to summon forth Norn. The golden demon looked almost out of place in such a hellish, barren place.

 

“Hiro,” Yamato said, everything suddenly clear in his mind. “You are a fast runner correct?”

 

“What- Yamato, we have to run, so maybe-”

 

Norn cast Shield All, and all they could hear were the cracks and screeches of the long-limbed demon striking the shield. The golden wall shuddered.

 

“You are a fast runner, correct?” Yamato repeated, holding Hiro’s gaze.

 

Hiro stared right back. “Yes, but-”

 

Yamato shoved the spear against Hiro, forcing the brunet to take it with blood and soot covered hands. “I will hold off the bulk of the enemy while you go on ahead.”

 

A terrible crack rent the air, the shield starting to splinter.

 

Hiro stared at him, his expression horrified before hardening. “No.”

 

“Hiro, listen to me,” Yamato snapped. “You are the fastest runner here – we will be continuously stopped-” he snarled when the world rocked, almost making them both lose their footing, “-by these beasts unless someone acts as the diversion! You are the fastest; therefore the logical choice is for you-”

 

“I’m not sacrificing you!” Hiro cried, and he gripped onto Yamato’s arm, his blue eyes too bright. “We’ll make it if we-”

 

“We will  _die_ ,” Yamato snarled.

 

“Yamato…” Hiro dropped his hand, holding onto the spear tightly as he bent slightly as if in agony. “…we’ll go to dinner after this, right?”

 

“…yes,” Yamato smiled, unable to describe the tight feeling clutching at his chest. There was another cracking noise, and the shield shuddered violently, on the verge of collapse. “We will even visit the lighthouse afterwards too.”

 

“Okay,” Hiro sucked in a deep breath – then gave Yamato a bright smile. “I’ll see you later. Don’t – don’t spend too much time here, okay?”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Hiro laughed before it choked into a weird hiccupping noise – and lunged forwards. The spear dug uncomfortably into Yamato’s stomach, but he ignored it as he leaned into the hard kiss, tasting blood and soot and sweat before Hiro wrenched himself away.

 

“Remember! Dinner and lighthouse! Don’t forget!”

 

“I won’t, I promise.”

 

Hiro smiled painfully before forcing himself to turn away and run. Yamato watched him, still smiling, and tapped at his phone. Dinner. Right. He can’t die here.

 

Then the shield broke.

 

The burst of inferno lit up the entire world, and Yamato turned, the hungry bright eyes of the monsters gleaming at him past the wall of fire. Cerberus beside him snarled, and Yamato closed his eyes briefly, remembering Hiro’s bright blue eyes and his smile-

 

He opened them and smirked.

 

“Sorry, but you won’t be touching him.”

 

The monsters screamed, and as one leapt through the flames.

 

**XXX -[Emil ~ Karma](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_NXTux_s8E&feature=related)**

 

Hiro never felt more wretched in his life.

 

He ran, he stumbled, he staggered over the moving earth, the spear cumbersome in his grip, trying to focus on  _forwards_  instead of  _backwards_. Every inch of him screamed to go back, not to leave Yamato alone with those monsters he’ll die he’ll die  _again_  and-

 

He had to keep going forwards. He had to.

 

It was hard to even walk when he reached the head. The Colossus was all but thrashing, Kohryu’s claws striking at its blunted snout and carving deep grooves into its hide. At a glance it was clear the Golden Dragon was on the verge of death, its mouth dripping blood, and body torn and ravaged by the Colossus’s sharp teeth.

 

Then pained gold eyes caught sight of Hiro, a tiny little speck atop of the Colossus’s head, clinging to the scraggly ground with all of his might, and Kohryu seemed to gather the last of its remaining strength.

 

Its claws clutched at the beast’s head, holding it still and stopping its thrashing, Kohryu’s voice nothing more than a gurgle;

 

**_“S-Stri…ke it…in t-the…centre…!”_ **

 

Centre? Centre of what? It’s head?! Hiro just blindly moved forward, the Colossus shuddering violently beneath his feet as it tried to free itself from Kohryu’s restraining grip. Hiro’s brain was buzzing wildly – he had no idea what he was doing, or what this spear was, or why Yamato had been carrying it-

 

It looked like a piece of shit, and he sincerely hoped it wasn’t because Yamato sacrificed himself for Hiro to get this far, Kohryu was sacrificing itself to let Hiro get this far –  _everyone_  was sacrificing themselves for this…!

 

The Colossus wrenched its head free with a howl, and Hiro practically threw himself flat against its head to stay  _on_  the fucking thing. He forced himself to crawl forwards, rocks and stone cracking against his elbows and knees, the spear dragging against the Colossus’s hide, and squeezed his eyes shut when a terrible dying scream echoed.

 

Kohryu fell.

 

Hiro hauled himself to his feet, now between the Colossus’s eyes, the spear slipping in his sweaty in hands. What did he do? Drive it in?!

 

The head jerked, Hiro almost losing his balance, and he looked up when a shadow loomed. The Colossus’s paw, claws dripping scarlet blood, was reaching for him-!!

 

Hiro flung himself to the side, crying out when his injured shoulder struck the rocks painfully. The claws scratched at where Hiro had been, tearing up clumps of stone and rock, and the Colossus tossed its head again, sending Hiro rolling and rumbling over the beast’s hide. It knew he was there, which meant – hopefully this spear could slay it…!

 

As the claws retreated, Hiro all but scrabbled up to the spot, seeing a flash of scarlet beneath the rocks – Kohryu’s blood and- its skin! Beneath the rocks and- Hiro barely hesitated. Forcing himself through another rock of the Colossus’s head, Hiro stumbled to where the skin lay bare and lifted the spear.

 

A shadow loomed, its claws returning-

 

-Hiro thrust downwards with all of his might, the spear plunging through the scarlet hide and deep into its skull-

 

-as the claws smashed down upon Hiro.

 

The Colossus screamed-

 

-and fell.  


	19. Seventeenth Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit more, just a little bit more, just a little. Bit. More.

_what’s this_

_ah_

_alright_

_i can breathe, just_

_a little_

_a little_

_what’s this_

_oh_

_this is pain_

_isn’t it_

_yes_

_i can_

_just a little bit_

_pain_

_breathe_

_breathing_

_i’m breathing_

_just a little bit_

_what’s this_

_ah_

_i can feel heat_

_just a little bit_

_what’s this_

_pain I c an_

_n_

_nnnn_

_ot it_

_just_

_a_

_lit_

_t_

_le_

_bi_

_iii_

_it_

_more…_

 

“..am…to…”

 

_shit_

_it_

_aa_

_it hurts_

 

“…ama…to!”

 

_what’s this_

_touch_

_a_

_ha_

_nd_

_just a little bit_

_touch_

_hands touching_

 

“…Yamato!”

 

_nnnh…_

_st_

_op it_

_it_

_hurts whe_

_n yo_

_u press…_

 

“Yamato! Wake up!”

 

_no…_

_aaa stop it…_

_that_

_what’s this…_

_fe_

_ee_

_els_

_like_

_like_

_…_

 

“Yamato!”

 

_wh_

_a_

_t’s_

_thi_

_ss_

_ah_

_can’t…_

 

“Fuck, Yamato! You better wake up right now!”

 

_stop_

_sho_

_uting like…_

_nnnh…_

 

“You promised …!”

 

_promise…_

_oh the_

_hi_

_ro?_

 

“Shit, why don’t I have Prayer or  _something_?!”

 

_nnnh…_

_it hu_

_rts_

_too_

_much…_

_but_

_painbreathepaintouchhandspain_

_pain_

_p_

_ai_

_n_

_…_

 

“…mn…”

 

“…?! Yamato!”

 

_come on_

_hotsuin does_

_does not_

_give up…!_

 

“That’s it, Yamato! Sorry, sorry I only have Diarama just-”

 

_it_

_hurts_

_fucking_

_fucking coward!_

_WAKE UP! IT HURTS BUT WAKE UP_

_WAKE UP_

_WAKE_

_UP!_

 

“…h…”

 

“Yamato!”

 

_MORE_

_A LITTLE BIT MORE_

 

“…”

 

“Damn it! Damn it, stop bleeding you, fucking-”

 

_KEEP_

_KEEP GOING_

_A LITTLE BIT MORE_

_ALMOST_

_I DON’T  
_ _Painpain_

_DON’T WANT TO_

_DIE_

_WAKE UP_

**WAKE UP!!**

 

“Otome! Otome, where are you!?”

 

**_ WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING COWARD _ **

 

“…..”

 

_w_

_a_

_k_

_e…_

_…_

_…_

_…_

 

**XXX**

 

Hiro hurt. Every inch of him hurt, but it was surprising how easy it was to ignore it after a while. The pain sort of, throbbed into a dull ache, and the tips of his fingers and toes were going numb, and he thinks he should be worried about that, but – but more important matters were before him.

 

Like Yamato.

 

Honestly, Hiro had thought he’d find the JP’s leader ripped to shreds. He was pretty close, but not quite all the way over the finishing line to the afterlife, and Hiro was prepared to drag him back kicking and screaming. Even if all he had was Diarama and all of his demons with  _useful_  healing magic were dead.

 

He could hear sirens. Weird. The wailing of ambulances and – the sound of helicopters, and it didn’t really feel real. He just scaled a Colossus with dragons and monsters and stabbing something with a spear and suddenly there were ambulances and helicopters? It was the clashing of two entirely different worlds-

 

Hiro’s hands were sticky, and it was slightly annoying. His head hurt. His legs hurt. He stumbled over here on them and he thinks they’re broken. The shins felt all wrong and his knees – well the Colossus did crush them under- a Diarama is so shitty really…

 

“Hey, Yamato,” Hiro said, half-laughing even if it sounded all wrong, “I’m sorry if this isn’t working – I should’ve packed Diarahan. Why didn’t I? I should’ve shouldn’t I?”

 

Hiro pressed his hands against one gaping would, fingers slipping over the ragged edges.

 

“Stop bleeding you, you damned ass. Stop making things difficult for once, just…god why won’t all of this go back in…?”

 

The roar of a helicopter ahead kicked up dust and grit and HIro let out a whining noise, throwing himself atop of Yamato to protect him from the biting debris as best as he could. He shouldn’t – wounds shouldn’t get grit, and if he listened hard enough he could hear Yamato-

 

Hiccupy, shallow wheezes-

 

Still alive.

 

Where was Otome?

 

“Otome!” Hiro shouted, and the helicopter drowned it out. “Otome! God – OTOME!”

 

Wail wail went the sirens and the helicopter flew away and Hiro leaned back up, his hands sliding over the bleeding wounds and Yamato was so pale so pale and barely moving-

 

Still breathing though.

 

“Keep breathing, okay,” Hiro muttered, feeling horribly scattered at the moment. “We still have stuff to do, and you promised, remember? Okay, the promise was made when we both thought we were going to die, but we’re both alive now, we both made it out, so you can’t go back on it now. That’s, you can’t trip over when we both did it, so stop bleeding, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it…”

 

His head hurt a lot. Diarama glowed a lot less now, but some of the wounds were sealed shut, kind of, kind of, but the big one, between Yamato’s ribs…

 

“This one’s being troublesome,” Hiro said conversationally, smoothing one hand through Yamato’s hair. The white strands were slicked with blood, and Hiro watched his face for a moment. Pale. Paler than usual.

 

“…” Hiro jabbed at the open wound, his fingers soaked with red – it looked like he was wearing red plastic gloves. He didn’t know why he made this random observation, but he did. Yamato groaned.

 

Hiro stopped.

 

“Yamato?”

 

There was a wheezing noise, and grey eyes opened, “…hiro…”

 

“You’re awake,” Hiro said, his mouth moving awkwardly. He felt suddenly very calm, very calm even though at the same time he wanted to cry. He pressed his hand against the gaping wound and  _Diarama_  – still wouldn’t close… “Sorry, I’m trying to heal you but it’s going all wrong…”

 

“…it’s okay…” Yamato rasped, his eyes unseeing.

 

He helicopter returned, but neither of them flinched. Hiro could hear the chop-chop-chop as the Helicopter started to touch down. Impossible. This area was so choked with monster corpses – there was a clear line though. Yamato hadn’t allowed a single one to get past him. Not a single one.

 

“…I killed the Colossus. I think. It’s not moving anymore.”

 

“…” Yamato let out a noise that could’ve been a laugh, could’ve been a choke. Blood oozed past his lips, sending a fresh red line sliding down his jaw. “…I g-guessed…”

 

“Mnn…” Hiro couldn’t feel his hands anymore. “The helicopter…”

 

“Hiro! Sir! Oh god-!”

 

Hiro looked over his shoulder woozily, and saw Otome jump from the helicopter before it even fully landed. She slipped on the slick ground, but caught her balance, continuing in jogging as quickly as she could towards them. Her hair was dishevelled, and her face so pale, her pink nurse outfit splattered with blood.

 

“Hey, Otome,” Hiro called, smiling faintly. “I’ve been calling you…”

 

“I’m here now, okay, oh, oh, Hiro- I’ll- how are you-” Otome looked like she wasn’t sure where to start. She fell to her knees beside Hiro, at Yamato’s head, making a squishing noise as she landed in the lumpy red puddle.

 

“Oh this, it’s nothing,” Hiro said. “Yamato’s kind of, broken, so…”

 

Otome looked behind them. “GET HERE NOW! Hiro, press your hands here, you’re bleeding too much. I’ll look after Yamato, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay, I only had Diarama and that wound wouldn’t close.”

 

“It’s okay, just-“ Otome pressed her hand against Hiro’s chest, slightly on the right, and there was a peek of white where his rib kind of, popped out-

 

“Otome, Yamato-”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

People milled out then, and Hiro got a bit antsy where they started to pull him away from Yamato, but Otome was there – and she put Yamato back together before so, it should be okay, right…right. It was okay.

 

He was put onto a stretcher, and everything was hurting even more now, and it wasn’t just his legs and head, it was his stomach, and his chest and his shoulder, oh definitely his shoulder, but, it should be okay.

 

Someone pressed their hand against his mouth and he smelt something artificial, the world eating up at the corners.

 

Should be

 

Should be okay…

 

**XXX**

 

 _“I’m standing here where the final battle against what sources call ‘The Colossus’ took place yesterday afternoon. As you can see the sheer_ devastation _is staggering. Over five thousand lives were lost, mostly soldiers but some citizens, and the death toll is still climbing. The amount of injuries incurred is shocking, with no official tally yet._

 

 _Reports claim that a_ dragon _was seen fighting The Colossus, a demon that belonged to JP’s Leader, Yamato Hotsuin. So far we’re uncertain as to what exactly brought down The Colossus – as you can see here, behind me – but some members of JP’s claim that it was due to the efforts of Yamato Hotsuin, and his Right Hand Man, Hiro Kageyama._

 

_We are uncertain as to what their condition is – attempts at contacting them have been denied each time. A leak within JP’s claim that their leader had been killed in the fighting last night, sacrificing himself to defeat The Colossus, with his right hand man still critically injured. This is uncertified, however, so stay tuned for updates on that front._

 

_Now onto the status of the demon infestation. Some of the monsters are within the area – as you can see, this place is heavily fortified, but some may have escaped into the surrounding area. Sumida in particular is of high risk. If you are one of the few citizens who had been unable to be evacuated, please, remain cautious, and if you see anything suspicious, contact the number at the bottom of the screen._

 

_This is a report from Akane Satou, live in Sumida. Please stay tuned for updates.”_

 

**XXX**

 

Makoto sighed as she closed the infirmary door behind her. A headache throbbed between her temples, and the stinging smell of antiseptic didn’t help any either.

 

“Rough day?”

 

Makoto opened her eyes to see an equally exhausted Otome smiling at her. The doctor was busy leaning over an injured JP’s member – the infirmary was fit to burst, but only the worst of the worst were situated here. The others had to be sent to the hospitals, with a few of the JP’s healers accompanying them to assist in healing both JP’s and Soldiers – as well as any civilians caught in the fighting.

 

“…rough doesn’t begin to describe it,” Makoto murmured. “How are you?”

 

“Me? Oh I’m fine. Haven’t slept for over thirty hours, but that’s what energy drinks are for, right?”

 

“You should get some rest.”

 

“I can’t. I have all of these to do,” Otome huffed, sounding a bit frazzled. “Actually, you can help me out. Cast Diarahan on this person for a bit. I just need, a quick break.”

 

Makoto nodded and took Otome’s place, casting a gentle Diarahan on the injured man’s stomach.

 

“…how are they?”

 

“Mn?” Otome sat down heavily on one of the empty chairs, her head tilted back with a hand pressed against her eyes. “Oh, them. Fine.”

 

“Just fine?”

 

“Well, as fine as they could be. Sir’s torn out all of that muscle in his left shoulder, and I don’t know if we can heal that back properly a second time. At least he wasn’t disembowelled, but, nnh, his lung was a bit…”

 

They were quiet.

 

“Hiro’s well onto recovery,” Otome said after a pause. “Surprising considering he got crushed under several hundred tonnes. Turned out he had Phys Resist and Endure equipped. Lucky idiot.”

 

Lucky indeed.

 

Makoto dropped her hands. “Is that okay?”

 

Otome lifted her hand and looked. “Oh, yeah, he’ll live. Can you make me a coffee?”

 

“Alright.”

 

Makoto returned to find Otome dozing in her seat, and after some debate she reluctantly nudged her awake. The doctor snorted before straightening up, blinking a bit blearily.

 

“Oh…oh thanks,” she mumbled, taking the coffee. “You’re not busy right now, are you?”

 

“No…I just finished sorting everyone out. Do you want me to help you here?”

 

“Please. You’re not the strongest with spells but – you know the human body at least. Take the strain off poor me for a few hours.”

 

“I’ll help in any way I can,” Makoto murmured. 

 

“Good, good, oh did you see that news report?” Otome half-laughed, kneading her fingers against her forehead. “Leaks in JP’s? The Chief would have a fit.”

 

“I’m looking into it. I can’t believe that…”

 

“Well everything’s a bit crazy right now, and I heard the journalists are paying a King’s Ransom for any information…this is a bit too big to cover up.”

 

Makoto nodded in agreement. The Colossus was in the centre of Sumida – they couldn’t cover it up even if they had an Amnesia Ray.

 

“Ooooh well…at least it’s over now. Well,” Otome took a gulp of her coffee, coughing a little at the burn. “Let’s continue stitching these poor souls up. I want to go home sometime this week.”

 

**XXX**

 

Hiro slowly stretched his legs out, grimacing at the dull ache assaulting his lower back. God, he was in so much pain it was ridiculous – only because this chair was specifically designed to be as uncomfortable as physically possible, he was sure of it.

 

“Stop making that face,” Yamato muttered, not looking up from the book in his lap. “It’s unseemly.”

 

“Your face is unseemly,” Hiro muttered, feeling a bit grouchy.

 

Yamato looked up from his book then, giving Hiro a little glare with a narrowed, grey eye. The left half of his face was wrapped with bandages, and his hair was a little shorter on that side too – it looked a bit odd, really.

 

“Well it is,” Hiro said, grinning a little. “I can’t wait until your bandages come off and you have to wear an eye patch instead. You’d be like that American comic character – what’s his name, Nikku Fury?”

 

Yamato’s one good eyes rolled. “Shut it. It will only be for a week or so.”

 

“Are you going to be blind in that eye? Otome wasn’t clear on it,” Hiro grunted, shifting once more in his seat. “God this chair is so fucking uncomfortable…”

 

“There will be some…partial blindness, but I will still be able to see with it,” Yamato returned to reading his book. “There is room on this bed, you know.”

 

Hiro paused – and promptly took the invitation. He crawled onto Yamato’s bed, making sure not to jostle the IV, and shamelessly snuggled up against the younger man’s side. Yamato muttered irritably but didn’t move, flicking the page with his one good hand. His left arm was bandaged tightly, set in a sling that rested against his body.

 

“You’re like a woman at times,” Yamato muttered under his breath.

 

“Sorry? What was that? I couldn’t hear you underneath all of this snuggling.”

 

Yamato closed his book, and with some awkward manoeuvring, managed to smack the book atop of Hiro’s head. “You are annoying. Go away.”

 

“Nope. You’ll need a crowbar to detach me now.”

 

Yamato sighed, but resigned himself to his fate. They both lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, muffled noises of the infirmary filtering through their door. The leader of JP’s got his own private room after all.

 

“I was thinking for dinner, I could make us something,” Hiro spoke suddenly, his words hushed. “When you can walk, I mean. I’ve learned how to make takoyaki.”

 

“Is that so?” Yamato’s words were sleepy.

 

“Mmhmm. I can bake cakes too! Well, Io taught me…she’s okay. Her and Daichi – they called yesterday, practically scared when they heard that news report a few days ago – did you know they said you were  _dead_?”

 

“Hm, yes…”

 

“Crazy. Well anyway, those two are fine, and Joe! Finally got a hold of him, apparently Ronaldo got a broken leg, but he’s fine too. Thank God, he didn’t have demons or anything protecting him during the fight…”

 

“Mm…”

 

Hiro buried his face into the crook of Yamato’s neck, his nose brushing against the soft fabric of bandages. Every inch of the chief was bandaged, it seemed. “Hinako and Airi are fine, and Keita got Jungo to leave before the real shit started, and I saw Alcor, you know…on the Colossus…”

 

Yamato stirred a little, but only murmured a half-interested, “oh?”

 

“After I got crushed. He asked if I wanted to live. I said yes, obviously. I don’t know what he did though. My memory’s sort of…fuzzy. I felt really out of it.”

 

“Shock, probably.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

They fell quiet.

 

“Thank God it’s over…I hope we don’t fight another Colossus ever again. The spear snapped, I think.”

 

“Other Colossi do exist…but so far they have shown no sign of activity…”

 

“We’ll keep an eye on it though, right?”

 

“Mm, we’ll keep an eye on it.”

 

“Good,” Hiro closed his eyes. “So glad you’re safe.”

 

“You’ve said countless times. Now please, I want to sleep.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

And the room became silent, Hiro holding onto Yamato as tightly as he dared, as the younger male slept.


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonds Epilogue. A month after the fall of the Colossus, and how everything’s settled. Hiro/Yamato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of Bonds - although I might write more oneshots based in this verse, the main, somewhat shaky storyline is over and done with for now. I hope you enjoyed it!

Hiro supposed that the bed wasn’t exactly a good place to write on, but he was honestly too lazy to look for a book to prop the papers on, and Yamato had claimed his vanity desk. Hiro only had one because a lady had owned the apartment before she rented it out, but Hiro had to admit that it served its purpose as a writing desk well.

 

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to work on a Sunday,” Hiro grumbled, giving up the pretence of writing and resting his cheek on his arm, letting his pen slide from limp fingers.

 

“Considering the lack of manpower, nobody has a free day anymore,” Yamato reminded Hiro lightly, slowly dragging the brush through his hair. It was amusing for Hiro to learn that Yamato’s hair got messy very easily, and he had to brush it regularly just to get it under the somewhat controlled chaos it normally was. “I believe we’ve had this conversation every Sunday for the past month.”

 

“Yeah, well…whatever,” Hiro returned sulkily. He squeezed his eyes shut with a small yawn, arching his back as he stretched out on the bed. “Mnngh, can we at least go later in the evening? My clock’s still adjusting.”

 

“Again, a month.”

 

“I’m slow.”

 

Yamato lowered his brush onto the vanity desk and stood up. Slowly, the young Chief prowled over to the bed, his silvery eyes amused as he stood beside it. “Lazy, more like. Do I have to drag you out by your ankle again?”

 

“If you do I’m not afraid to kick you,” Hiro grumbled, pressing down against the mattress and curling his fingers into the bed sheet, anchoring himself down in case Yamato made good on his threat – which was pretty damn likely.

 

“Hm, what a conundrum then,” Yamato’s eyes glinted evilly, and Hiro felt a bit suspicious when the younger man bent down slightly. “How to get you out of bed without risking myself?”

 

“What’re you doing?” Hiro asked, his eyes widening when he realised- “No! Don’t you-!”

 

Yamato lifted the mattress up in one smooth movement, hauling it up at a high enough angle for Hiro to roll off the other side in a tangle of limbs and blankets, his papers fluttering up into the air before drifting back down. There was a very satisfying yelp and ‘ _thud_ ’ when Hiro landed on the floor, followed by a pained groan.

 

The young Chief set the mattress down neatly. “Problem solved.”

 

“God, I hate you…” Hiro moaned, slowly rolling onto his back. He remained sprawled on the floor, although this time out of passive defiance, adopting a very disgruntled expression when Yamato moved around the bed to stare down at him pityingly.

 

“Are we playing this game again?”

 

Hiro sniffed in response.

 

Yamato rolled his eyes, moving away and out of sight. “It’s like dealing with a child.”

 

Hiro was a bit suspicious about what his boyfriend was up to, but resolved to firmly remain in place, staring up at the ceiling. He could hear Yamato shuffling about, and the creak of their wardrobe opening. If he listened ever harder, he could hear Daichi in the kitchen, singing off-key to the radio. It was only nine in the morning, so his friend was getting ready for work.

 

Hiro stiffened when he heard the click of the bathroom door, followed by the gurgle of the tap. Oh no. He remained in place though, even when Yamato’s footsteps thudded foreboding as he returned-

 

With a cup of water in hand.

 

Yamato stood over him, dressed in nothing but his shirt and trousers, his hair somewhat tamed, with an expression of mischievous amusement. It was, in Hiro’s opinion, very very sexy, but right now he was more focused on the cup than the young Chief’s dishevelled appearance.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Hiro warned.

 

Yamato’s smirk just widened. “I wouldn’t do this if you just got up, Hiro.”

 

Hiro scowled, tilting his jaw stubbornly. “…if you do it I swear I’ll kick you in the-”

 

In one smooth movement Yamato dumped the water right on his crotch.

 

It was hot too.

 

“JESUS **_FUCK_** \--”

 

**\---**

 

Yamato almost cringed at the leer Otome was giving him when he limped into her office that morning. Sadly, it wasn’t what she was thinking. Hiro had not reacted well to having warm – it wasn’t hot, the big baby – water applied directly to his groin, and had reacted by drop kicking him right in his privates. It had been a painful morning for the both of them.

 

“Fun night?” Otome asked innocently, tapping her fingers against her desk. “I can get an inflatable cushion for you to sit on.”

 

“It isn’t _that_ , Yanagiya,” Yamato said sternly, mentally willing her to drop the subject. He slowly sat down on the seat, his expression one of stoic suffering. He was going to put Hiro on double duty in patrols for this. No, triple duty.

 

“Mmm~” Otome grinned. “Sure, well then, it’s almost the end of your physiotherapy, sir. Hopefully the last time you’ll need it.”

 

Yamato just gave her an impatient look.

 

“Oi, don’t give me that look, sir. Just because you’re the Chief doesn’t mean you get to ignore doctor’s orders,” Otome scolded, wagging her pen in Yamato’s face. “Now then, please take off your shirt.”

 

Yamato neatly undid his tie and shirt – he had left his coat in his office – and shrugged it off, folding the clothing over to settle it on his lap (gently). His shoulder was recovering well despite being torn to shreds twice now - in such a short time frame as well. He still didn’t have full mobility for it, and sadly it was something that would never be fixed, but it was not enough to interfere with daily life or light battles.

 

“Now let’s see, let’s see…at least some of the scars have faded,” Otome remarked, pressing her gloved fingers hear and there against the ruined flesh. Yamato wasn’t sure which scars she was referring too, since his shoulder was practically a web of them.

 

“It’s really a miracle you healed this much, sir,” Otome sighed after a few minutes of inspecting, her fingers beginning to glow with healing aura, her hand ghosting over the shoulder. “Or lived.”

 

“Hiro is to thank for that,” Yamato commented. From what he got from Hiro’s somewhat jumbled memories and Otome’s report, Hiro’s desperate Diaramas managed to keep Yamato from Death’s door long enough for Otome to save him. Of course, that wouldn’t’ve mattered if Kohryuu died, since their lives had been linked at that moment.

 

But Yamato hated thinking on that. He was indebted to Alcor for his brief moment of meddling…

 

“Speaking of, is he alright? He’s like you, sir, in that he stays quiet about any aches and pains he’s got,” Otome looked slightly exasperated. “Are his legs still suffering from moment of weakness?”

 

Yamato thought back to that powerful kick from this morning, and squashed the urge to cringe in traumatised remembrance.

 

“No,” Yamato muttered, “His legs are fine.”

 

When Otome glanced at him, her eyes were amused, and he glowered back at her petulantly. This woman was so aggravating.

 

“I’m sure they are,” she leered, and it took Yamato a few minutes to catch the innuendo. His glower flattened and he decided that he should just not talk to the doctor anymore. If Hiro should call anyone a pervert, it was her.

 

“I will dock your pay, Dr. Yanagiya,” Yamato said severely.

 

“No you won’t,” Otome said cheerfully, leaning back to settle in her seat. “If you were going to, you would have done it when I gave you that sex education presentation.”

 

As he said: an aggravating woman.

 

**\---**

 

“He is outright evil, Makoto, _evil_ ,” Hiro complained to his companion, grumpily scribbling on a piece of paper before him. They were both sitting in the break room, and Hiro had accosted Makoto on her way out and forced her to sit with him so he had someone to complain to dammit.

 

He normally did this with Otome who enjoyed gossip far too much, but Yamato was with her so darn, she’d have to wait.

 

“What kind of person pours _boiling_ hot water on you? Especially there!? Only because I wouldn’t get out of bed, god…”

 

Makoto was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I…don’t think it’s proper of you to discuss such… _intimate_ details between you and the Chief to me…”

 

“Intimate? That was cruel and unusual punishment, not some weird fetish thing,” Hiro harrumphed, and Makoto looked longingly at the break room door, her face bright red. “I wouldn’t put it past Yamato have a weird kink for something like that though. What’s it called, sadism?”

 

“Hiro…” Makoto groaned, pressing her hand against his face. “I really don’t want to know.”

 

Hiro kept up the grumpy expression for all of two seconds before he broke into laughter. “Okay, okay, I’m just being mean now. I half expected you to bolt for the door five minutes ago.”

 

“I was tempted,” Makoto admitted, looking relieved that her torture had ended.  

 

“Mm~ ugh, I swear this paperwork never ends,” Hiro muttered, switching to something less embarrassing for his friend. “Why should I have to manage the remainder of the corpse cleansing?”

 

“You are one of the most skilled in fire magic,” Makoto replied, “Also I think the Chief would trust you to do a thorough job.”

 

Hiro grumbled under his breath. Damn straight he would do a thorough job on those evil demonic bastards. In the month that followed the fall of the Colossus, most of the remaining manpower of the SDF and JP’s had been focused on controlling the massive explosion of those weird demon things. JP’s took in a few corpses for examination, and found them to be…bizarre somehow.

 

Demons were made out of magnetite when they arrived in this world, but those monsters weren’t – and were. A blend of magnetite and flesh, apparently born from the Colossus itself – although some of the demons contained human DNA within it, while others were animal or pure demonic so…it was a true mystery.

 

The Colossus itself was a mystery though, being one of the ancient demons before everything even existed on Earth. They still hadn’t been able to move it from where it fell in Sumida. The fact that there were more of them buried under the earth all over the world made everyone edgy, but thankfully none of them (well, the ones they knew the locations of) were close to rousing. They still didn’t know how this one woke up.

 

Yamato said that maybe the fire demon they had to use the Dragon Stream against somehow stimulated it – it had been rather close to the mountain the Colossus had been slumbering in, but everyone admitted that they just had no idea and were simply speculating total bullshit.

 

“I’m getting sick of it now. It’s like there’s no end to them,” Hiro sighed. They were still cropping up within the city, mostly in the sewers or dark, underground places like that. The numbers had dwindled enough for people to go out during night again though.

 

“We have recovered well despite the circumstances,” Makoto reminded Hiro. “Considering that, it could be worse.”

 

“You’re Miss. Optimist today,” Hiro remarked, smiling a little at Makoto. “Yeah, I know, I know. This paperwork is crushing my soul, that’s all.”

 

Makoto stood up from his hair. “Yes, speaking of, I should return to my own work.”

 

“Yeah, thanks for listening to me rant for a bit.”

 

“It was…no problem,” Makoto lied, and Hiro bit his tongue to stem some laughter. He nodded to her, and watched as she left, heaving a sigh as he returned to his work. Seriously, it never ended.

 

“Shining One.”

 

“ _Gah_!” Hiro jumped in his seat in surprise, his pen flying out of his hand to sail across the room. He turned in his chair to see Alcor standing behind him, looking a bit bemused at Hiro’s reaction. “Fucking hell, Alcor, I _really_ need to put a bell on you.”

 

“A…bell?” Alcor repeated.

 

“ ** _To inform him when you are near.”_**

 

Kohryu was draped over Alcor’s shoulders as a miniature version of himself – he looked no less majestic, strangely enough.

 

“I see,” Alcor murmured, lifting his hand to press it against his mouth. “Did I startle you?”

 

Hiro stared at him. “… _yes_. You did. Very badly, I might add.”

 

“My apologies,” Alcor said morosely, looking genuinely guilty. It made Hiro feel like he kicked a puppy when all it did was come over for pettings.

 

“It’s okay,” Hiro sighed. “So, come, sit, it’s kinda awkward for my spine to talk to you like this.”

 

Alcor floated over to the chair Makoto vacated, and sat down awkwardly. Kohryu crawled down the Septentrione’s arm and onto the table, his talons scratching the polished wooden surface.

 

“ ** _I am almost fully recovered. It is time for me to return to the Hotsuin heir._** ”

 

“You’re still looking pretty small there, Kohryu,” Hiro said amusedly. The dragon reared up, letting out a squeaky snort in indignation. Hiro simply reached out and stroked the dragon down along its serpentine back, grinning when Kohryu slumped and purred happily at the attention.

 

Weird how alike Kohryu and Yamato were.

 

“So, if you’re giving him back to Yamato, why not go to him directly?” Hiro asked idly.

 

“…I felt it would be better if you deliver him, Shining One. Yamato Hotsuin and I…it is best if we avoid each other.”

 

Translation: Alcor and Yamato had a rather ballistic meeting when Hiro wasn’t around to act as a buffer.

 

“Alright, I understand,” Hiro smiled wearily. “I’ll talk to Yamato too – you know, tell him to stop being a dick to you.”

 

“He is free to be angry with me,” Alcor responded.

 

“Free, schmee. Yamato needs to let bygones be bygones,” Hiro said firmly. “I admit, I don’t know what history you two had together before the, uh, weird timeline thing with Polaris, but it’s stupid of him to hold this grudge when it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

 

Alcor just gave him an unreadable look.

 

“Don’t give me that look. Trust me. Yamato’s a brat. You need to discipline him on matters like these.”

 

“…If you feel that is best, Shining One, I have no objections,” Alcor finally said, rubbing at his mouth contemplatively. “However my…meddling is over now. I promised to withdraw completely from human matters to ensure I do not upset their fate once more.”

 

“I told you that’s dumb,” Hiro said flatly. “You’re not meddling – if it weren’t for you _saving_ Kohryu, or _me_ for that matter with the Colossus, me and Yamato would be dead by now. That’d be a pretty bad thing since we’re the one keeping JP’s together – well okay I can’t claim that, Makoto and others are too, but still. That’d be bad. Nobody would get shit done with all the demons running loose and shit hitting the fan.”

 

Alcor sat there in thoughtful silence. “I…helped?”

 

“Yes,” Hiro said exasperatedly. “You helped a lot. Positively. Without screwing up or causing an upset or anything. I wouldn’t lie about that, Alcor.”

 

“I see.”

 

Hiro couldn’t pinpoint Alcor’s tone, but he supposed that the Septentrione was happy at least. He was too gloomy for his own good, even if he wore a rather cheerful smile at times, and although Hiro’s memories of…the other timeline were foggy, he remembered when he called himself the Anguished One.

 

Well Hiro was hoping he could alleviate that Anguish somehow.

 

“You’re free to come by and say hello whenever you want,” Hiro said gently. “Just, uh, make sure I’m with Yamato when you say hello to him. I think it’d be best for everyone’s sanity.”

 

“I will…consider it,” Alcor said slowly. He rose from his seat, dropping his hand from his mouth. He smiled. “Farewell, Shining One.”

 

“See you later.”

 

Alcor vanished in a shimmer of blue, and Hiro turned his attentions to Kohryu, practically a purring puddle of Dragon goo under his hand. “Are you a dragon or a cat?”

 

“ ** _As you are currently scratching that spot, I will refrain from biting you for that comment,_** ” Kohryu growled, his amber eyes half-closed in satisfaction.

 

“You must be bound to Yamato,” Hiro muttered under his breath, “You two are so alike it’s scary. Well come on then, let’s take you back to your master.”

 

**\---**

 

It had decided to rain when the sun began to set, so Hiro made the suggestion for Yamato to return to his place with him. Yamato pointed out that his apartment was closer than Hiro’s, but the brunet simply stated that his house was warmer, and it had cakes and game consoles. Yamato wasn’t sure how that was a legitimate rebuttal to convenience of distance, but he wasn’t in any mood to argue.

 

Personally Yamato thought Hiro just wanted to borrow his car so he wouldn’t have to take the train.

 

Yamato didn’t really mind being dragged from his own apartment however. He found that it was looking emptier and sadder with each passing day, Spartan and solitary in comparison to Hiro’s bright and personable home. It was the home of the extrovert, with knickknacks from friends both eccentric and normal, brightly coloured furniture and carpet, with game consoles and children films and even plush toys. It was a place that should be alien and offensive to Yamato and yet…

 

He couldn’t describe it.

 

“I think Io’s here,” Hiro told him as they entered the apartment complex. The apartment was on the middle floor somewhere, so they would have to take the elevator.

 

“Miss. Nitta? The university student?”

 

“Yeah. You need to stop stalking my friends.”

 

“I am not stalking them,” Yamato sniffed. His cool stare was ruined by Kohryu curled over his shoulders like a scaly feather boa, but Hiro decided not to point this out. Kohryu would probably scare Daichi, but his friend was a bit desensitised to demons at this point since Jack Frost enjoyed playing video games with him.

 

One elevator ride later, and Hiro was unlocking the door to his apartment. “We’re home!” he called, carefully taking off his shoes and setting them aside, Yamato taking a little while longer to completely unlace his knee high boots.

 

“Hey~” Daichi’s voice drifted into the hallway, and Hiro went on ahead into the living room. Yamato could hear voices erupt into cheerful babble, and he set his boots next to the shoe rack before straightening up.

 

He didn’t move immediately, content to simply stand the hallway, out of sight, and listen to the warmth of Hiro’s home. This was a world Yamato had never even imagined being a part of. He thought his life would be JP’s and his empty apartment, but the arrival of Hiro had thrown that everything into a chaotic spiral.

 

It was a bit frightening – no, it was very frightening. Just as scary as the day Hiro first kissed him, but the thought of going back to his life before that was even scarier. What power Hiro held over him…

 

“ ** _You are getting soft, Hotsuin,_** ” Kohryu growled drowsily. “ ** _But at least the mate you chose is a worthy one._** ”

 

“This doesn’t concern you, Kohryu,” Yamato murmured. “Nor do I care if you think he’s worthy or not.”

 

He stepped into the living room then. Hiro was sitting in the middle of the three seat sofa, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa with Io and Daichi on either side of him. The brunet’s blue eyes blinked at him, as if to say ‘what took you so long’, but Yamato merely smiled in response.

 

“Dude, there’s a dragon on your shoulder,” Daichi blurted, looking a bit cross-eyed at the sight of Kohryu.

 

“Yes, there is,” Yamato said, moving to take his seat on the armchair. Daichi was always intimidated by him, it was rather amusing. 

 

Io was looking at Kohryu with some mild interest, but her expression was shy. She was a brilliant girl, but a bit too much on the shy side. A pity.

 

“Well now that we’ve got a double date going on,” Hiro began, pulling his arms back and leaning forwards slightly, clapping his hands together to rub them evilly. “I think it’s time to play some Mario Kart!”

 

“W-What- Hiro, dammit, w-we’re not dating!”

 

“Two lovebirds against a battle couple!” Hiro continued loudly, rising from the seat and ignoring Daichi’s red-faced spluttering. “Whose romantic bond is stronger?! Mine and Yamato’s obviously, I bet you haven’t even gotten to second base-”

 

“Hiro!”

 

Yamato watched as Daichi got Hiro in a headlock, the both of them laughing and shouting at each other.  Io gave him a look past the roughhousing friends, a timid look of exasperation, and Yamato merely rolled his eyes in response. She laughed quietly into her hand.

 

Yes, it wasn’t the life Yamato had been expecting when Hiro walked into his office that day for his interview, but he had no complaints about it, really. It was aggravating, confusing, terrifying and all-consuming but…

 

Yamato dipped his head slightly, hiding a small smile.

 

He was happy with these bonds he formed. 


End file.
